


The Junkyard

by chroniclesofatimelord, pigeonking



Series: The Missing Doctor Adventures - Season Two [1]
Category: Doctor Who
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-19
Updated: 2017-04-24
Packaged: 2018-10-20 23:00:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 20,994
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10672569
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chroniclesofatimelord/pseuds/chroniclesofatimelord, https://archiveofourown.org/users/pigeonking/pseuds/pigeonking
Summary: It's time for season two of The Missing Doctor Adventures. This time I've invited my friends to help out with the writing chores. Our season opener is not penned by me at all (apart from a few continuity edits), and is entirely the work of my friend Robert Meddings, the same guy that created the Rebecca Hall inspired female incarnation of the Doctor that he has allowed me to write for. Here he has returned the favour by writing my season opener for me. He isn't in the Archive yet, but I hope that will change as soon as I figure out how to invite him. In the meantime enjoy his story in it's original four part serialisation...





	1. Part One

“The Junkyard”

By Robert J. Meddings

Missing Doctor is created by Mark Leney

Part One

 

That starry canvas looked out from the depths like a scene of the cosmos.

Sparkling bright, trickling with lights, it stretched further into the countless dots

that formed the maze of nameless heavens.

That giant nebula looked like a beating heart. Those far-off suns looked like

staring eyes of youth. Those straits of gasses formed assembling fingers. It

looked like the stars were amassing into a single entity.

That pillar of reality cobbled together into stately cosmos while the head

reclined from the depths of darkness with pride. Could those be hands and

feet?

Now, pulling back, the cosmos became a baby wrapped up in the small

comfort of the womb. It remained sleeping in the small, ethereal place,

clinging to its mother, sitting in the pillowy softness, resting in the fatigue of

space itself.

Now the baby looked like it was hooked into a ball of sleep, cuddling into the

motherly chambers of the womb. Its sanctuary. It fell into complacency...

Nothing could decide its fate yet.

It wanted to sleep forever.

Pulling back now, like the scene was growing bigger; it was now the mind's

eye inside the TARDIS. One could see Clover Daniels standing in the middle of

the room. Others were with her.

This place was the cradle of civilization. This was the heights of technology

that no simple man could take credit for. It belonged to the rightful rule of the

gods.

Clover stood on the floor, being in the center of this new drama while holding

her belly with her hands. She carried the marvel of life which added to a

purpose of her own. This was a thing of beauty.

“Didn't you hear me?” Clover said. “I'm pregnant.”

“This is unexpected,” the Doctor said.

“Yeah, especially for me.”

“And me,” Bex added. “But, er, I had nothing to do with this. Ah, obviously...”

“This is going to complicate things,” the Doctor said.

“You don't say?” Clover said.

“This is actually more frightening than battling the Daleks,” the Doctor said.

“Is it going to be come sort of space baby?” Clover said. “This child of the

cosmos? Maybe it's going to be the mother of the universe?”

“I'm speechless,” Bex said.

“This is going to set things back a bit,” the Doctor said. “There are a lot of

enemies out there who is going to take advantage of this.”

“Can you not stop thinking about the monsters?” Clover said.

“It's all I can think about,” the Doctor replied.

“We're having a moment. You and me. And the baby. We're sharing a bond.

It's our life force.”

“I haven't been a father in ages,” the Doctor said. “Not since I was an old

man. A really old man. Sort of. Those are just memories...”

“Do you need a little alone time?” Bex said.

“No, no, we're fine,” the Doctor countered. “This is just throwing a few things

off.”

“Is it such a bad thing?” Clover said.

“Not at all,” the Doctor said. “It means the TARDIS will have to make room for

one more.”

 

The Abra-Car-Dabra Junkyard stretched from the rickety fence to the bulky

warehouse overlooking the vehicles like some stone fortress. So many cars

people didn't want. So many things tossed out. It was a dead end.

There stood the giant cat mill which looked proudly over the wasteland it

presided over. Anything from unused cars to metal heaps would find a home

here. There was also a loading barge.

Two men worked the day shift while the boss went home for the day. They

were old friends of owner Jenkins Trevors. They played a little music in the

background sounding something from “Deep Purple” which hammered out

of the boom box with loud drama.

The men sat in the couch in front of the TV screen—one was a full-timer and

the other a part-timer. The TV looked like it belonged to a junkyard, a little

beat-up around the edges. Rabbit ears poked out like metal sticks.

The game player ignored the sponge cake that's been sitting in front of him

for a half hour. The video game was more important to him than anything

else in the universe. He stabbed the controller with brutal thrusts of his fingers.

The rest of the warehouse looked like a cobbled closet.

“You're going to play this?” Bumper said while holding the joystick. “It's set for

two players.”

“No thanks,” Chad said. “I'll pass.”

“You're sure?”

“Those are just little dots going back and forth.”

“That's the state of the art, man!” Bumper said. “It's technology!”

“I'd rather watch Fat Albert.”

“You useless fossil!”

“You're going to eat that sponge cake?” Chad said.

“I haven't planned on it,” Bumper said.

“If you keep watching that dot for too long, you'll go blind.”

“Nonsense.”

“If Trevors knew you were doing this, he'd probably fire you. Seeing how you

spend more time playing games than checking the junkyard.”

“What's to check? There's nothing outside except the usual crap,” Bumper

complained.

As Chad reached out for the cake, gripping a good chunk to chow down,

Chad listened to the outside of the building while the night coughed with a

noise.

Chad tilted his head while straining to hear, though it was difficult while

Bumper played the game like a useless employee. Bumper stopped playing

while holding the controller in his hands. His gaze lingered on the window

while ideas ran through his head.

“You hear that?” Chad said.

“I wish I hadn't,” Bumper admitted.

“Maybe a customer?”

“Yeah. Someone without an appointment.”

 

Clover smiled as her lips parted for a moment, her face full of vigor, so pretty,

so uplifting. Her eyes shouted with brightness while her sunshine hair laughed

with youth while hanging over her shoulders.

However, stepping into the circle, the Doctor found his place before her

where he should be—his towering shoulders carried confidence while his face

filled with desire for her.

Crouching slightly, the Doctor put his ear to her belly while listening to the

beat of life. It was an amazing thing to hear the progress of a growing soul. A

spark of life itself. This cycle of life.

Settling his face against the smooth roundness of her belly, the swollen flesh

careering with invite, he listed to the faint, small moments of movements as

he pressed closer.

“It seems to be growing fast,” Clover said. “Feels like I've swallowed a fat

basketball.”

“Oh, that's Time-Lord genetics,” the Doctor said. “It helps the baby grow

faster. No need for you to be alarmed.”

“So it's not going to have two heads or three arms?”

“Absolutely not,” the Doctor replied. “This is very normal. Everything is very

normal here. I'm still listening to the kicking...”

“I'll get everything ready,” Bex said. “Do you even have a nursery around

here on the TARDIS? I can't imagine you don't have one.”

“Somewhere,” the Doctor said. “I don't remember where.”

“I should start looking.”

“Don't get lost,” the Doctor said.

“I'll try not to!” Bex piped.

Clover put her right hand on the Doctor’s head while weaving her fingers

through his hair with a plowing effect, playing with the tufts of his mane.

Something throbbed intensely in her head as she never realized the softness

of his hair.

She was glad to be able to have those few, calm moments in between the

crazy stuff to bring things into perspective. The blooming romance was like

taking steps on the stairways—there would be some missteps along the way,

but they would reach the top eventually. Sometimes love would find a way

home. Clover watched the Doctor lift his head from her slightly slouching

belly.

“What about your parents?” the Doctor said.

“Er, what about them?” Clover said.

“I've never met them during our travels. You never talked much about them.”

“Uh-huh.”

“How do you think they'll feel when they learn how you're spending your time

with a complete stranger?”

“You're not exactly stranger to me. We've travelled together for some time.”

“I'm still a stranger to your parents,” the Doctor pointed out. “I'm not exactly

from your world either.”

“Never really gave it much thought,” Clover admitted.

“Perhaps I'll send them a message and let them know the current state of our

affairs...”

“Not now,” Clover said. “Not yet.”

“This isn't the kind of surprise you want to hold off on...”

They looked like a couple falling into an eternity of troubles. Every corner,

every road, would lead them to more danger. Yet they wouldn't think of

letting each other go.

The Doctor and Clover were like the ship still anchored in the ocean. They

held each other with the greatest support, and nothing—not even a giant

tidal wave—would separate them. They would not break off from each other.

There would be no secrets. That was a promise.

“Is there something you want to tell me?” the Doctor said.

“Nothing. It's nothing,” Clover said.

“Come to think of it,” the Doctor said. “I don't know much about your

parents. Not much of a backstory.”

“I don't know anything about your relatives either.”

“Touché.”

“I think it will be a good idea to hold off the family gatherings until we settle

down more,” Clover said.

 

“Might be some kids fooling around on the property,” Chad said.

“They're interrupting my game!” Bumper said.

“You're going to make the rounds?” Chad said.

“I'll be right behind you.”

“Jesus. Two o'clock. Saturday afternoon. Don't these kids have anything

better to do on the weekends?”

“Nope.”

The Saturday afternoon shuddered as the junkyard collected on the property

like neglected piles. It was a minefield of discarded items. That kingdom of

useless things taking up space.

There sat the 1967 Chevrolet P20 Adventure Line Motorhome, a big, lump

heap sticking out of the metal landscape. Sleeping like a baby was the used up 1972 Jeep J-4000 out of Detroit.

They sat in staggering hills like leftovers left behind by a society which was

wasteful. They were making things unclean. What was wrong with a world

that didn't know how to clean up after itself?

Now two men stepped through the walk of daylight while the employees

combed the area. It looked like a giant camp infested with the sights,

lingering with dirt, shredded and dusted with summer fumes. Even the 1960s

Chevrolet Camaro sat MIA here.

It must take a desperate person to go through the wrecking yard looking for

that nothing trophy. Who could be the culprit? Bumper nodded to his friend

while going off into another direction.

Skirting around the next corner in a spot of brightness hooked into the day,

Chad could see the prevailing daggers of ruins chucked everywhere. Chad

followed the safe path between the graveyard of cars.

Abra-Car-Dabra Junkyard.

Started in 1968. Owned by Jenkins Trevors.

Where could Chad look for the intruder? What were the hiding places?

Answer? He could be anywhere. Chad dug through the heap while the little

fingers of light parted the curtains of daylight.

Something was in the middle of the path, but it was tough to make it out.

Chad thought it might be some pest like a squirrel, giving him a startle, but he

moved by the Pontiac Firebird.

It looked like a soda can dumped onto the ground. Crushed. Stepped on.

Chad wished he finished off the rest of the pound cake. His chest tightened

for a gasp of air as he crouched to the ground.

He could see the random trees and the feel the summer breeze falling like

poetry. It was a Coca Cola. Chad picked up the crushed soda can while

looking over to the heights of rubbish.

“You're still there?” Chad said.

“Yep,” Bumper said.

“There's so much crap here,” Chad continued. “We'll never find the intruder in

this never-ending land of clutter.”

“You're signing off?” Bumper said.

“I'm going to find this kid and send him home in a police car. Keep looking

and I'll do the same on my side here.”

“Might be something here,” Bumper said. “This doesn't look right.”

“What is it?” Chad said. “I'll meet you over there.”

“I don't know, but it's freaking me out,” Bumper said.

“You've been playing too many of those video games,” Chad said. “I'll be

with you in a moment. It looks like someone is trying to mess with you.”

“Hurry up!”

“What it is?” Chad said.

“Can plastics come to life? Bumper said in the other part of the junkyard.

“What are you talking about?”

 

“We'll need to find a proper safe house,” the Doctor said. “Some place

where outside forces won't be able to track us down. A place where none of

our enemies know of.”

“What about the house on Allen Road?” Clover said.

“Too much Artron energy activity around there that could be detected by potential enemies. What about Ramona's pub?” the Doctor said. “I think I might have something there.”

“It's pretty safe. No Artron energy there. No one would even think about going there. Do you think Ramona would have us?” Clover said. “Feels like we might be imposing.”

“Not at all!” the Doctor said. “I'm setting a course there!”

“Everyone hang on to your hats!” Clover shouted.

“I don't wear hats!” the Doctor scowled.

As the Doctor skirted around the console—his hands moving into a frantic

song as he fell into a music of precise steps—the Doctor found himself

struggling with the coordinates.

His hands threw several switches as he figured a long series of connecting

buttons while skirting alongside the console. It was like trying to loop a lasso

around a wild horse. The TARDIS wasn't agreeing again. Why? Why did it do

that? Someone else stepped into the console room.

“I still haven't found that dumb nursery room!” Bex shouted.

“Never mind that!” the Doctor said.

“This is useless!”

“We'll find it later!” the Doctor snapped. “Right now, we're off to see the

English countryside!”

“What?”

“You might want to hang onto something.”

“Oh, no!” Bex trembled.

“Oh yes!” the Doctor shouted.

As the Doctor threw a bunch of switches together, like a madman taking hold

of flight, he made the TARDIS fly into a far-flung, see-saw movement that cut

through the universe like a runaway train in the cosmic tracks.

There was so much still needing to be explored. No longer was the TARDIS

carrying hitchhikers or would-be passengers, it was now carrying an entire

family on board. How delightful.

It would be the _Allen’s Arms_ on Allen Road they're going off to. It's been a long

while, but things shouldn't be that different. An idyllic countryside. The long

roads. The stretches of fields. The quiet. And the gentle hills. It would be a

pretty good place to bring a child into the world. Yes, that would be fine. The Doctor was looking forward to it.

 

Chad continued walking on the safe route, saddling between the rigors of

scraps and refuse, before making a breakthrough into the other parched

clearing where Bumper should be. Except he wasn't.

Swerving on his feet, pivoting to the right and left, Chad peered into the dark

while holding the flashlight to see only more shadows. More junk. Very little

else. Where was Bumper?

He found Bumper's keys on the ground.

Those keys would open every door in this place.

Stooping low, hoisting above the pebbled gravel, Chad felt a slight chill falling

over him as he gripped his friend's fallen keys. Something about this place

made him think of graves.

It was lifeless, abandoned and wary... this place was filled with the frail

fragments of unwanted things. It became a dead end here. Shifting around

on the blasted heath, Chad thought he could hear someone. Or something.

Standing up on his feet, he turned around with his own torch.

“Hey, Bumper, is that you?” Chad called out. “Where are you?”

Nothing.

“Come on, man, stop playing games!” Chad growled.

Still nothing.

“Bumper, is that you?”

Chad thought he could see someone stepping into the shadows with a

willowy breeze. His stately form cut through the moonless night, though Chad

was not sure if it was his good friend.

That intruder, moving with silence, stepped down the tracks until Chad could

see his face seeming to glisten—and the emptiness of that pasty-white skin, a

gleam which sparked a hallowed stare.

It looked like Bumper who could be giving an awkward smile, but it was his

empty eyes which bothered Chad most. His face was still. So very still. Could

Bumper be dead? Chad wanted to banish the thoughts. Yet Bumper didn't

move! Not at all!

Chad saw someone else step like some puppet master who forgot to wind up

his life-like toys, and now the intruder revealed himself in a grandiose way.

Chad could see it was a nothing face.

And the expression of horror gripped Chad who stumbled back, seeing the

empty face staring back at him. His feet faltered as the midnight man

approach him to deliver a message of death.

What was that thing? Chad could see the fierce sunlight flickering around the

intruder. Chad shrieked as his voice slipped into the day while feeling hands

coiling round his neck.

It took him.

 

During the latter part of the day, when despair settled on the old warehouse

fixed in the middle of the Abra-Car-Dabra Junkyard in the city, someone

stepped into the break room.

There was some light spilling from the lamp while the coughing brightness

slipped down into the floor like hammers of sunlight. The TV was still flickering

while the humming could be heard from the video game left on.

The intruder did not walk around, but only strolled straight over to where the

couch was. Sitting into the clutch of pillows, not minding the softness of the

seat, the intruder picked up the controller.

It was still wired to the Atari gaming unit which meant the intruder could play

the game with ease. His hands held the controller while he helped himself to

a game of Space Invaders. Playing it faster and faster. Seeing the little dots

going back and forth like an audience of cheap movements.

There was no real expression on his face. It was a blank, nothing look that

went on forever. Something like an urge held him with the insistent to hurry

with the game. His hands moved like thunder.

The intruder didn't have feelings that would otherwise take other players. He

did not feel anger or surprise while playing the game. Nor did he want to

punch through the TV screen for not getting a perfect score.

His hands simply played as he followed the movements. Faster, bolder, he was

like the champion of video games. Nothing bothered him other than it was

just a game to play. He was like the shark in the new video age.

Something spoke to him.

In the darkness.

No longer interested in the game, the intruder shuffled away from the video

game, the reading table and the pile of uneaten sponge cake. The night

filled with voices.

Secure the area!

The intruder nodded.

We need a base of operations! Do you understand? Wait for further orders!

Somehow the video game on the TV froze which made a loud, humming

sound. It sounded like a bad note barking from the tattered speakers. Before

leaving the room, the intruder hit the top of the TV with his fist to cut out the

annoying sound.

Somehow the noise flickered out. It was all right. Everything was calm. Now

the intruder will be able to resume his function.

The graveyard of cars offered very little during the day other than a crude

silence. Very little of the sunlight made its stamp between the rolling darkness

needling between the rough outlines in the room. The intruder looked out the

window while thinking about his next step.

There was calm in his outline.

His hand clenched into a fist.

 

There was a knot of visitors touring through the Abra-Car-Dabra Junkyard

which didn't look pleasant to them. This was the time in history where people

ignored a cleaner environment. Throwing vehicles around outside was just a

happenstance.

One could see the 1964 Ford Mustang sitting in the scraps while a

Volkswagen bus leaning off to the side like a forgotten history piece. It had a

red paint job that's worn off a bit.

It was also the time of disco where John Travolta Jr. was hitting the Saturday

Night Fever and Margaret Thatcher didn't take office yet. Bell-bottom pants

were in fashion. Charlie's Angels was a popular TV show.

“I thought you were going to take us to Allen Road?” Bex said.

“I had planned on it,” the Doctor said.

“What happened? Why are we in this dump?”

“And it's literally a dump,” Clover added.

“The TARDIS apparently had other ideas,” the Doctor said.

“No kidding,” Clover said. “Are we supposed to be in here?”

“There's something off about this place,” the Doctor replied.

“You're always saying that!”

“A junkyard without any junk men. Don't you think it's strange?”

“Come on, let's go,” Clover said. “I want to get this over with.”

“I don't blame you,” Bex said.

“The sooner the Doctor can satisfy his curiosity, the sooner we can get to

Allen Road.”

“Agreed.”

They began to take a walk down another route right by the countless junk

piles that looked like Tokyo of steel. Their walking frames stirred from the large pockets of discarded items that looked like a tornado hit here.

In the small distance from them was the blue box standing in the middle of

the surroundings. This police box looked out of place as it stuck out cheerfully

like a sore thumb.

Your local car graveyard could be a scary place.

Flitting between the cascading sights in more cars, seeing more valleys of

grime, the Doctor produced the sonic sword while he was making some

tests. It made a humming sound which erupted like a twang.

The Doctor wore a black suit and pants countered by the long, flowing black

necktie which hanged loosely around his neck. He also wore a brown

cashmere coat which rippled around him like the richest material, crackling

around his legs with an Errol Flynn motif.

“Well?” Clover said.

“I don't like it,” the Doctor said.

“He says he doesn't like it.”

“I don't like it here,” Bex said. “I'd say we leave and mosey our way back to

the TARDIS. And to Allen Road.”

“There have been some activities here,” the Doctor said. “Something

otherworldly.”

“Then it's worth investigating,” Bex said. “Though it could be nothing.”

“It might be nothing,” the Doctor said.

“You can't be serious about staying in this place,” Clover almost barked.

“Why not?” the Doctor said. “It brings me back some old memories. A bit of

nostalgia in a walk through the junkyard.”

“What about Allen Road?”

“That can wait,” the Doctor snapped. “I want to make sure everything is all

right here. Allen Road can wait for us.”

“What about the sonic sword?” Bex said. “What does it tell you?”

“There's trouble,” the Doctor announced.

The knot of would-be guests proceeded further onto the private property,

and they saw a middle-aged man stomping towards them while smoking the

cigar like it was a chimney.

It looked like he was going to give them a piece of his mind, footsteps

stomping like a rhino herd. He resembled a shifty entrepreneur with a bowler

hat and a razor-thin mustache he must have stolen from the French people.

Seeing how his clothes looked like they were bought out of a thrift shop,

something about him suggested he lived in his man cave too long.

The Doctor and his companions stopped short as they met up with Mister

Jenkins Trevors in the middle of the parched clearing. It was junk in one

direction and another gallery of vehicles in another. It was the kind of place

you wouldn't take your girlfriend to on a first date.

Now the Doctor traded in his sonic sword for the psychic paper, a gift from his recent encounter with the original Doctor, his fingers fiddling with the inside of his coat pocket.

“You got a lot of gall waking around here,” Trevors said. “How did you get in

here?”

“We walked in,” the Doctor said.

“That's a lot of hogwash! The doors were locked. The fence is closed off. You

busted in!”

“We didn't want to upset you, but we are on official business.”

“Official my a—!”

“Very official!” Clover interrupted.

“You're interested in buying a car?” Trevors said.

“No,” Clover snapped.

“You can get a free Space Hopper with it! They're pretty cute!”

“No! That's... vile advertising!”

“You're coppers?” Trevors said.

“Coppers? Is that derogatory?” the Doctor said.

“He means the police,” Clover said.

“Where are we?” the Doctor asked.

“What? This is the best, blamed junkyard in the US of A! I call it the Abra-Car-

Dabra Junkyard. Pretty clever, huh? I thought that one up myself!”

“That's nice. About this place...” the Doctor began.

“I got rights, you know!” Trevors barked. “You can't barge in here and

pretend the place is yours!”

“It would only take a few moments,” the Doctor said. “Then we'll be out of

your way...”

“Get a court order!” Trevors snapped. “I know you need that to do an

investigation.”

“What is it?” the Doctor shot back. “What are you hiding here? Is there

something here we should know about?”

“I'm not hiding nothing!” Trevors snarled.

“It's 'anything',” the Doctor corrected. “It's the proper usage of the word.”

“A grammar Nazi, huh?”

“I'll take that,” the Doctor said. “Now I'm having some issues with the local

field of signals. They're coming from here.”

“There's nothing here except car junk. You're probably picking up some radio

signals,” Trevors said.

“No, there's something different about these signals,” the Doctor said. “I'll

need to check them.”

“Forget it.”

“They're bleeps! They're interesting bleeps!” the Doctor announced.

“They're bleeps,” Clover said.

“You sound American, but your friend sounds Scottish.”

“Amazing powers of observation,” Clover said.

“Scotland Yard? Nice. How's Sherlock Holmes?”

“Fuck you.”

“I wouldn't recommend you walking around here,” Trevors said. “You might

hurt yourself moving around in this junk. Then I might get sued by your

incompetence.”

“No need to get more nasty,” Clover fired back.

“You're a copper too? I doubt it, but you're easy on the eyes It's too bad

you're knocked up already.”

“Excuse me?”

“Don't you have some meters to run down?”

“I ought to smack you one.”

“It's just a routine check-up, nothing more,” the Doctor said.

“So get out of here before I call the real cops,” Trevors said. “I don't want to

see hair or hide of you lot. You can crawl back the way you came.”

Trevors looked like he got struck by lightning as his face twisted with an ugly

snarl. Something bothered him enough as he swirled around to head back to

the shoddy warehouse that acted as his office space.

With a rabid movement, Trevors sank his hand into his pocket to get the keys

and dangled them in sight. He knew he was the most powerful man on the

property. Maybe he was a little frightening. He looped the keys in circles while

he waltzed back to the warehouse maybe to get himself a cup of lemonade

to fight off the summer heat.

It left everyone standing in the middle of the Abra-Car-Dabra Junkyard as

they looked at each other while shrugging shoulders. Bex and Clover looked

like they wanted to use Trevors for a punching bag. The Doctor dropped his

hands into his pockets while he blew out his breath.

“Dang. We're in America,” Clover said. “In the seventies. I should have

morphed into my bell-bottoms!”

“So we're looking here anyway,” the Doctor said.

“All right!” Bex said.

“I just want to make sure no one runs into any trouble here. Keep low,

maintain stealth and don't get caught.”

“Easy enough!”

“I think we ought to split up,” the Doctor admitted. “We can cover more

ground this way.”

“That sounds like a terrible idea,” Bex said.

“You girls check the warehouse and I'll scout the junkyard,” the Doctor

suggested. “Find anything that might not be normal.”

“Walking around in a car junkyard isn't normal,” Clover said.

“I do it all the time,” the Doctor snapped.

“Since when?”

“I'll meet you back in an hour,” the Doctor said.

“I'm already missing Allen Road,” Clover said.

As the women started for the warehouse, circling around to the back to

sneak in, they stirred near the cobbled walls which made up the scruffy

looking building.

Clover held her hand to her belly while cutting a fine line through the gorged

path, feeling the smooth roundness of the new world inside her. Bex stayed

close to her while they approached the back door.

“Notice anything about that guy?” Bex said.

“That he's a full time douchebag?” Clover said. “How could I not notice?”

“He's definitely trying to hide something.”

“Yeah. Such as his tiny pe—“

“Other than that.”

“Come on. I want to get this over with,” Clover said. “I'm more concerned

with...”

“The baby?”

“Yes. Not exactly ideal surroundings to peddle around in,” Clover said.

“It's not, but I'll be with your all the way. Nothing is going to happen. I'll make

sure of it.”

“I don't see anything yet! Is that a shadow in the doorway? It's opened!”


	2. Part Two

The inside of the warehouse continued on like a long coffin. It looked more

like a bachelor's pad in some parts particularly the office space. This place

looked worse than the blitz in the forties. A disaster at every turn.

Including the break room found at the end of the hallway. There was the TV

stuck on the rickety stand that was a bit shoddy. The rabbit ears stuck out like

a thunder of tiny steel.

The girls checked over the leftover pound cake, but it didn't look very

appetizing. There sat the primitive Atari video game unit that looked like a

fossil from the cave man days.

“Do you think the Bee Gees would be playing somewhere in concert?” Clover

said.

“It would be the right era for it,” Bex said while checking over the Atari

console and joystick attached to it.

“That's pretty old compared to today's standards.”

“Asteroids. Space Invaders. Video Pinball. Sea Wolf,” Bex said. “They look

outdated. Of course, we're from the future...”

“We're like the Scooby gang, right? Splitting up. Sneaking around for some

clues,” Clover said. “Except we don't have a dog. Didn't the Doctor have a

dog once? A robot dog?”

“Shhhh! Not so loud! You want Trevors to hear us? What is it with you and TV

shows right now?” Bex said.

“I wonder if Scooby Doo is playing on Saturday mornings now? Might be

something to introduce to the baby...”

“I'm going to look over here,” Bex said. “The Doctor told us to look for

something strange. So far, the only strange thing I'm finding is you!”

“I'm feeling a little peckish,” Clover said.

“How can you be thinking of food at a time like this?”

“I'm eating for two people, you know?”

“I figured on that.”

“I could eat a stack of those Twinkies or some of the popcorn slathered with

butter in the movies...”

“You'll get fat,” Bex remarked. “I won't think you're pretty anymore.”

“I'm soooooo hungry,” Clover said. “Damn.”

“Don't worry, I got this,” Bex said. “I saw a vending machine in the other side

of the break room. You hold the fort.”

As Bex shuffled into the other room, she hit the goldmine where the vending

machine stood. It looked a little rough around the edges while the machine

held the usual packages of Hershey's Bar, Milk Duds, Junior Mints, Nut Goodie, Good & Fruity and an assortment of gum.

She dug into her pocket in hopes of finding some change for the vending

Machine, there was bound to be some American coinage left in there somewhere amongst all the British coins she’d accumulated. It would be embarrassing if Trevors caught her sneaking off a Cadbury's Whole Nut bar.

There was just the sheet of glass between her and the rest of the packages

inside. This gallery of junk food. The mamas and papas of bad food. It was the

plunder of civilization.

Bex sighed from the choice from bad to worse. She sneaked in a few coins,

but it wasn't working. The rest of the break room didn't look much better.

“Reminds me of my uncle's house,” Bex muttered. “A total disaster.”

While looking at some of the bags, she noticed a few of them were expired

already even though they were in the racks. Such a variety of chips to

chocolate bars might be a little stale. Would she chance it?

This was the death of society. How could people eat this stuff? Bex decided to

move on to the coffee machine which might be a little better. The food

didn't look appetizing. The coffee? Maybe.

“Come on, come on, you stupid machine,” Bex snarled.

As she looked around to make sure Trevors wasn't walking around in the

building, she went ahead to pluck the button on the coffee machine. She

listened to the whirl the machine dropping the plastic cup.

Finally it made another mechanical grind while the machine dispensed some

ready-made coffee into the cup, but made a choking sound. There was the

coffee foam rising up, but it stopped. What was wrong with this machine?

Why was it breaking down?

Soon the plastic coffee cups began to do a dance as they cobbled together

like would-be trolls. Soon more coffee cups added to the marathon of cups—

the arms, the legs, this collection of coffee cups was turning into a human

form.

Bex watched as the coffee cup creature lashed out with its strange plasticity,

hurling at her with a powerful fist. Ducking the attack from the coffee foe, Bex

lifted the ice bucket near the vending machines. That creature stirred like a

walking nightmare.

Swinging the bucket from the floor, Bex threw it at the would-be attacker in

hopes of breaking apart the formation of cups. However, the monster was not

bothered by the ice bucket.

“What the fu—?” Bex started.

This creature simply caught the bucket before putting it onto the shoulders to

complete the human form. Now it was a whirling storm of coffee cups with an

ice bucket for a head. It made a frantic move as Bex dodged out of the

way.

“This is nuts!” she cried out.

Her footsteps pegged the floor as she faltered slightly while her friend Clover

stepped through the midway door between the rooms to find themselves

battling this plastic nightmare.

 

Stepping into the main office inside the warehouse, after needling between

several used cars in the shop, Trevors turned on the lights with the flick of the

switch.

Who were those damn trespassers before who cornered him on the private

property? Where did they come from? After shutting the door, he made sure it

was locked.

Trevors wasn't not taken back, but expected to see another door standing in

the middle of the room. Except this was a door to itself with a portal stirring

within its frame.

It was a living thing. Somehow it hummed with a heartbeat of life while

standing there greeting Trevors. That thing was a very dark, dark womb where

it held a soul. What kind of soul was it?

“I got it here soon as I could,” Trevors said.

You had visitors.

“Three of them. Two women. One man. They say they're from the police, but I

doubt it. The authorities are getting closer...”

We cannot allow them to interfere with our plans.

“I don't know if I can stave them off...”

We are making the final preparations. Nothing can stop us.

“They're local authorities. What happens if they start bringing in the heavy

guns like UNIT?”

This will not happen! Time is of the essence. We will make our move when no one is looking. Describe the newcomers to me!

“I don't see how that will help anything.”

Describe them!

Was it possible for a doorway to become angry? That voice booming from

the depths of that tunnel, like some transmitter to god itself, and the doorway

itself rippled into a vortex of swirling colors which rippled every time the being

spoke. It was like watching a lava lamp running wild while the strangling

words spilled from the other side.

Trevors had no idea where that door led to, or what was he talking to on the

other side, but it was commanding. And Trevors was afraid of it. Somehow a

strange presence stirred within the temple of this door.

Could it be this doorway was a cosmic telephone line to another place?

Trevors recalled finding this doorway in his own car junkyard as if it wanted to

be found. Maybe it's true Trevors owned the biggest wrecking yard in the city

of Illinois, but he felt small compared to it.

“The girls seem to dress strangely as if from the future, though one of them

looks pregnant,” Trevors said. “She's punkish, unruly and cheeky. The other

calls himself the Doctor...”

You are sure of this?

“Yes, the others refer to him as the Doctor. He carries some sort of paper,

stating he's from the Scotland Yard. He's got a thick enough Scottish accent

that would make Sean Connery cringe...”

Enough! That is enough! This means we must hasten our plans! This foe is

familiar to us!

“He doesn't look that dangerous. Arrogant, maybe...”

The Doctor always has a traveling companion in the form of a police box.

You must find and get rid of it!

“A police box? That sounds... absurd.”

It will be there. You must find it. A blue box!

“This is the most ridiculous thing I've heard,” Trevors said. “Those police boxes are going out of style. They're just wooden boxes!”

This one is different. It is a time traveling machine.

“Time...? That's even more absurd!”

Silence! You will follow my orders Find the police box and dispose of it. The

intruders may be prowling about.

“I told them to leave! They would be crazy to stick around!” Trevors snarled.

You will send the two subordinates out. I do not want the Doctor finding out

about our operations!

“Their names are Chad and Bumper...”

It was you who sacrificed them that day. They are living dolls because of you.

Or would you prefer to join them...?

“No, no, I'll take care of it,” Trevors said.

You are a snivelling coward. Make sure nothing stops the beginning stages of our plans. Make sure the time is right and everything is ready!

The door became a spectacle of effects while the rushing flow of colors filled

the portal. It looked like a sheet of ripples like an explosion before it went

blank. A talking door that gave orders.

Go go go!

And so, like an obedient child, Trevors did what he was told, and there was a

time when he used to run this shop. It was his place. His business. And now it

was turned over to some unseen, disembodied form. Perhaps a corporate

entity. The local company turned corporate. Or, rather, cosmic.

Trevors thought he heard a noise in the warehouse, and he craned his neck

to listen better. There was something wrong here. He could feel it in the back

of his neck.

The Doctor is coming.

The Doctor.

 

The Abra-Car-Dabra Junkyard wasn't much to look at. There was the rumble

of tossed out items that were left behind like unwanted orphans. This place

seemed to be filled with sadness while the Doctor moved between the junk

piles.

It reminded him of a wasteland. Such as the dozens of worlds he'd been to

that were broken, decimated. His memories stirred back to the civilizations

caved in to ruins from space battles.

This was a very muddled place. It is an ugly blight that is like a dead-end. It

was the shallow winds of the dying world, and the seas of darkness that

wafted with gentle fear. The souls came here to find a solitary existence like

none other. Particularly that 1968 Plymouth Road Runner.

His footsteps hooked into the pebbled grounds while he glanced at the

horizon of car junk. It seemed endless, futile. Made the Doctor think of the

planet Rodius where piles of metal would lift into the city and the only way

you could reach a doorway was to climb up or down the towers of steel. It

was a beautiful city of metal. So much disarray. Yet so precise. A planet

where people were made from metal. Not junk, but lovely metal.

The Doctor could see someone driving a plow truck around with smashing

effort. The driver had his back to the Doctor, so there was no way to see his

face. However the man drove with collective rage.

Surprised, and angered, the Doctor could see the plow truck pushing the

TARDIS into the compactor unit. He could see the blue exterior peering out

from the bit with a cry for help.

“Oy! What do you think you're doing?” the Doctor shouted. “That's not part of

the junk!”

The driver continued to raid the area while plowing the scoops of car parts, its

mighty engines revving with a loud noise. Now the driver was going to pour

mountains of junk into the compactor.

Couldn't this guy hear the Doctor? Was he deaf or something? The Doctor

kept calling out to him to stop the plowing, but the conspiratorial driver kept

raking the grounds.

“That's my property!” the Doctor shouted at the driver. “Do you have a

license to drive that thing?”

As the plow truck stopped, winding down to a monotone hum, the driver

shifted it into park. Out of the corner of his eye, the Doctor could see driver

swivelling in his face to greet him.

It was an empty face. That expressionless look made the Doctor draw back a

step, finding himself confronting this puppet man wearing a nametag “Chad”

on his shirt.

Before the Doctor could say anything, trying to get a footing on the truck

plow, the driver knocked him back to his feet. The Doctor fell to the rough

ground while looking up to see the creatures face. It was drowning in

nothing. It was darkness taking the place of a face.

“Autons!” the Doctor scowled. “Thought I'd gotten rid of you lot a few

generations ago! You're like a bad penny!”

 

That revolving swirl of coffee cups shuffled and tore into the room like a

frantic nightmare. Bex could see the safety unit with an ax in case of the

emergency. This was an emergency!

Shifting on her feet, Bex broke the glass with her elbow while Clover was in

the doorway to catch her first glimpse of the coffee cup intruder. Seeing the

splatter of glass, Bex avoided stepping on the puddle of broken shards while

she grabbed the ax.

“Got a new friend?” Clover said.

Bex tightened her hands on the ax while she swung it at the monster, but its

legs and arms were like a regaling storm of movements. And a cheap, stupid

bucket of a head. She made a good enough of a swing to make a

lumberjack proud.

“You don't scare me!” Bex snapped.

The coffee cup monster swung its arm which sent Bex flying through the room

and into some chairs and a table. It felt like she really got the wind knocked

out of her as she grumbled with aches.

Collecting her ax, she could see Clover stepping in between her and the

fierce monster.

“Need some help?” Clover said.

“I wouldn't say no,” Bex said.

“All right. Tag team!” Clover said.

As the coffee cup monster lumbered towards Clover, like some rotating cycle

of plastic doom, it grew into a spiralling tornado in movements. Clover

produced the sonic sword. It was time to try out the Doctor’s latest upgrades!

A flashing saber, twisting into a burst of energy, stretched outward into a

melee weapon. It looked like a sharp laser beam of pulsing light, throbbing

from the echoes in sonic power.

“Outta the way!” Clover snapped.

“You're being loud!” Bex said.

“So what?”

Clover swung the sonic sword into the ceiling which cut away one of the

ceiling platforms holding the long-tube lights. It swung into the coffee cup

creature as the pipeline exploded in its face.

After the initial attack, regaining her footing on the ground, Clover gripped

her friend's shoulder to make a run for it. The monster stumbled back in a

slingshot of pain.

“This is our cue to leave,” Clover said. “Trevors may have heard us!”

“I'm never drinking coffee again!” Bex said.

“Really?”

“Too much coffee!”

“I'll talk to the Doctor about making you one of these sonic swords!”

“Nice!”

“I think we're blocked off!”

Bex looked into the other side of the break room—with the Atari system. Only

to see the controller units, the console and the wires were forming a stalking

stronghold in movements.

It lifted into a human-like form while using the controllers for hands, shifting

towards the girls with a terrible hunger. The stomping blocks of video games

seemed to be laughing at them.

“One of the side rooms,” Clover said. “We can make a run for it.”

“Coffee cups on one side and video games on the other. What a terrible

cliff-hanger!”

Clover said, “It looks like everything plastic is coming to life! Have you noticed

that?”

Both Bex and Clover leaped around snarling whirlwind of coffee cups while

running into the hallway. No doubt their presence would be known to Trevors

and company.

Seeing a route to the basement, being cut off, Clover decided on stomping

down the stairs in a stampede. Bex followed after her friend as they ran in a

storm of madness. They could hear the laughter of monsters catching up with

them.

Clover could hear a small giggle stirring from the monster's lips, and the sound

of its outlandish glee filled her ears like an earthquake. Somehow she thought

of how fate had spat her out into an eternal battle against evil.

 

The Auton driver continued to make good on his promise while plowing the

truck towards the Doctor. Reversing, moving forward, the truck tore on its

wheels like a tycoon of thunder.

The Doctor muttered something as he produced the sonic sword from

his jacket, holding it with the cool sway of tension. His eyes narrowed while

the engines jerked with broken sounds.

It was definitely an Auton driving the truck. An Auton Chad. The engine of the

truck blew out while the Doctor held the sonic sword which made a

high-pitched wail. Part of the truck exploded while plumes of smoke blurted

out with coughs.

As the truck flickered with fire, cradled with the howling of the broken engine,

the Doctor remained standing without moving from the truck's path. He was

like a pillar of strength. His hand held the sonic device while the Auton driver

bailed out. The truck came to a halting stop inches from the Doctor.

“That's made a good show of it!” the Doctor snapped. “The sonic sword.

A Time-Lord's best friend!”

Now how was the Doctor going to get out of this? He could see he would be

facing the Auton which was ready to open its hand like a gun, revealing the

pistol-like gauge opening to fire.

Ducking down under the attack, the Doctor could hear the misfire while he

cut around the stopped plow truck. The Auton hit the side of the 1966 Ford

Thunderbird with its gun instead of the Doctor himself.

Another plow truck was coming in his direction over the next hill. He caught

sight of the other Auton driver taking a straight path towards him. The Doctor

didn't have time to reset the sonic sword. That second plow truck was

coming along fast!

Come on, Doctor!

Think!

It was another plow truck! This must be the other Auton running the place.

There were crushing blows of wheels pouring over the ground. And the

second Auton driver was determine to bury him!

He looked around to see there was no easy way around the fast

approaching plow truck, and it would roar over him like a mountain of metal.

The Doctor spotted a pipeline at the bottom of the conclave beneath him. It

could be a good exit.

So the pipe stuck out of the burial grounds of the wrecking yard. Making a

good leap, his feet hooking into the slant, he rushed down the conclave

before getting to the end of the pipeline.

It looked like plenty of space inside. Ducking into the pipe, finding some

cover, the doctor watched as the second plow truck poured the mounds of

junk with thundering disposal. As if it was burying the dead.

The Doctor felt the coughing dust pouring into the pipe as he held his breath.

So much car scraps was filling up the conclave part of the yard... it was like

being covered by a thick blanket.

It left him fuelled into a little knot of tension in his corner of his cage, and knew

there was nothing left for him to do here. This dung heap barked with a rancid

aroma mixing in with the damp shadows.

His hearts beat with a tremble while his chest clenched with a tight gasp. The

Doctor remained inside the pipe while everything fell into darkness. The

broken vehicles settled down next to him like a rubbish heap. Not only that,

he couldn't see his way out. Closed off.

The Doctor was trapped.

 

His mind stirred.

His thoughts fell into a whirlpool.

It was a different perspective. Further, further, into the history of his past.

The Doctor thought about the day he first got his memories. It was

when he broke out of the long sleep that had been an eternity.

His thoughts tugged with the perfection of sleep, being in the safest place

inside that womb of darkness. Nothing in the universe could harm him here

where he was confined to slumber.

Until he woke.

Or, rather, someone woke him.

The Doctor remembered climbing out of the pit of darkness that was his

mind... sweeping, aching, thirsting for life. Something else woke him up while

he could see the sliver of brightness showing him the world for the first time.

How beautiful it was. And how ugly as well. The old man had insisted on taking him to Gallifrey so that he could see where he had come from.

“Where am I?” the Doctor said.

“Steady on, my friend,” the old man said. “Steady yourself.”

They had stepped out of his TARDIS leaving Clover inside.

He still wasn’t sure who this crazy old man was that had come out of nowhere? Why had he interrupted a good, peaceful sleep like this? It was so calm before. It was like stepping out of the graveyard of his thoughts.

The Doctor reached out to grip the old man’s arm beside him, hoping not to

falter to the floor. No longer was he inside the long sleep. Was that what it

was called?

The Doctor felt the groggy fatigue pressing down on him, his throat growing

chipped with a dryness. He could feel the aches crawling in his legs with

every step he took.

Yet his memories were coming back to him. All of the battles, every war,

every personal wrestle with morality. It came back to him in the small, private

place in his mind.

The old man. He wore a scruffy goatee while his eyes earned a sadness

which spanned the centuries. There was still a war going on in his stare. The

constant, fighting war.

This old man also had a shock of gray hair which looked a little punkish while

his clothes hanged on him like rummage sale items. It had a sort of

steampunk fashion. Something about him was like a soldier.

“What am I doing here?” the Doctor said.

“This is where you come from,” the old man answered. “but you will have to come with me now.”

“You're a stranger. I don't even know who you are.”

“I'm someone who is here to help you.”

“I'm tired. I need to sleep more...”

“No, no,” the old man said. “You've done enough to last you a lifetime. Now

it is time for you to take your first steps!”

It was strange to see the old man wearing scraps of armory around his

shoulders, and the gallery of bullets hanging on him. He looked like a man

who was going to war.

Offering a helping hand, the old man led the Doctor around this desolate orange skied landscape. No more womb to keep him warm here. It felt cold to step into this naked world while a gust of wind chuckled around his unclothed body. The Doctor could not fight the glacier of iciness.

Taking note of the Doctor's plight, the old man had brought him a blanket to

cover him. Later he would find the Doctor some clothes to put on. Now the

Doctor found himself standing on this fertile world filled with a civilization. This

was the cradle of power.

“Don't move so much,” the old man said. “Save your strength.”

“What am I doing here?” the Doctor said.

“That would take some time to explain,” the old man replied. ”

“This place seems too familiar to me. My memories scattered.”

“You only need to give it more time, my friend.”

“How can I be your friend when I don't even know who you are?” the Doctor

said.

“You'll find you and I have a lot more in common than you think,” the old

man said.

“You haven't answered my questions,” the Doctor said.

“You were brought into the middle of the war to counter the Daleks. You're

like the balance of power for the Time-War. It's out there. It's real. It's

happening.”

“I... I think I remember.”

“That's good. Your memories will come to you. The Time-Lords created you

out of the memories of someone else. You're a clone who has become an

instrument of war. The Time-Lords want to use you against the Daleks.”

“Then I'm nothing special. Just a clone?”

“No, no, you're much better than that. This is why I freed you from

the reigns of these Time-Lords. There is a question of moral grounds here. The Time-Lords made the ultimate weapon. That's you. I don't think it's right for them to turn a living being into a weapon.”

“The Time-Lords? The Daleks?” the Doctor said. “It's all coming back to me.”

“More will come. I promise you,” the old man replied. “I believe the Time-

Lords were wrong in doing this experiment, though they were never subjected

to morals. They're more self-righteous, immoral and arrogant. I don't care for

them much...”

“Why am I so important?”

“You're the endgame. You're the doomsday machine that's going to turn the

tides of the war.”

“The fire. The destruction. The eternity. I remember it now.”

Now the Doctor found himself the wanderer of a new world having finally

stepped out of the TARDIS. He raised his hands to look at the latticed age

while his fingers wiggled with life. His thoughts turned to something else. The

Ice Warriors. The Yeti. The Brain of Morbius. UNIT. Jelly-babies. The Vampires.

The Cybermen. The Female Doctor. The Daleks. The Weeping Angels. And the Master. So much of a whirlwind of memories fell into his mind while he felt the fires of the past catching up with him. It was an inferno.

It fell into many lifetimes of horror.

His memories stretched for a universe.

“Those are memories of someone else who left this world years ago,” the old

man said. “Those are the memories of someone else.”

“It is like fire and ice. Light and dark. I don't know how to describe them,” the

Doctor said.

“They're memories belonging to someone named the Doctor. The original

Doctor,” the old man said. “Now you're carrying his memories with you. The

Time-Lords want to control you and fight their battles for them. They don't

have the right to control you or your life.”

“Somehow I knew,” the Doctor said. “I always knew.”

His mind was still a working clack of memories. It was like stepping

through a minefield of thoughts.

Something in his mind slipped as he felt himself stirring, not sure of anything. It was difficult to hold on to hang on to reality while the Doctor fell through the

pit of darkness. He could feel himself falling further like a man drowning in an

ocean of memories.

“You must pull yourself out of the darkness,” the old man said. “Find your

footing.”

“Why are you helping me?” the Doctor snapped.

“I'm your mentor,” the old man confessed. “I'm going to get you to a safe place. I promise you that. However, you have got to fight them. You must keep vigil and don't let the Time-Lords get hold of you.”

“It's too much,” the Doctor said.

“You must keep fighting, keep digging through your thoughts,” the old man

said. “Follow my voice! You must listen to me! Fight the darkness!”

 

As the Doctor woke up in the middle of the pipeline, feeling cluttered

between the narrow spaces, he found he could not stretch or move far. That

burrow of dead cars almost piled on top of him.

There was the crumbled Oldsmobile. The Buick Special. Cars. More cars. It was

an American thing. They had an obsession with things moving on the road.

Top speed. There was the Ford Falcon. Nice.

The Doctor leaned forward to breathe a little, and could only see the darkness

around him. There was a coughing smoke which clutched at his lungs. That

thick breeze of blackness tugged at his soul.

Now the darkness seemed to be grinning back. Digging into his pocket, he

produced the sonic sword while holding it out like a magic wand—the

bright saber emitted from the sonic device which rippled with energy.

“That's better,” the Doctor muttered.

He could see there was no way for him to carve out the wall of cars that was

piled into the conclave next to the pipeline. No doubt the Autons left a

graveyard of junk on top of him. If he tried to dig his way out, it would only

make things worse. He would have to find another way.

Where would it lead to? The Doctor wasn't sure as he clutched at the sword

as if it was a torch shedding some light. The other direction could lead to

salvation. Or it could lead to nowhere.

“I better get out of here before I start talking to myself,” the Doctor muttered

while stirring in the pipeline.

Situating himself along the pipeline, crouching slightly so he didn't bump his

head like a giant in a hobbit's home, the Doctor continued to take steps

through the pipeline.

He held the sonic device in his grasp while it threw a throbbing brightness into

the darkness. The Doctor remembered how the old man told him to dig

through the darkness. Keep chipping away the dark.

Yet the Doctor seemed to be doing that all the time: fighting his way out of

darkness to find that little spark of light at the end. Such things embraced him

with a familiar, trembling ease.

“Find your way out,” the old man once said. “Find your way through the

darkness.”

Find your way through darkness.

The darkness.

Carrying the sonic sword, hoping to find some good news at the end of the

tunnel, he could see the entire place was blocked off. Now what? His throat

felt dry. His lungs clenched like coal chambers.

Sweat broke out on his forehead while his eyes knitted into a fury. There was a kind of copper taste in the air while the air closed around him like dragging

fingers. The Doctor was not going to be trapped here.

Was there a way out?

Perhaps.

The Doctor had so many reasons to get out of this grave. His thoughts of the

Autons hatching up another plan to colonize forced him to move with haste.

Why couldn't they bother some other planet?

Of course, the earth was full of pollution. That was good stuff to the Autons.

He also had Clover and Bex to think about. Never abandon his companions.

Not ever again. He was going to find a way out.

Clutching the sword hilt, readying himself to carve the dead end like an

eager cook carving up a Thanksgiving Turkey, the Doctor made a hardy

swashbuckler move as he cut all the hodgepodge in front of him. Slashing.

Stirring. Slashing and hacking.

“This is taking its time,” the Doctor criticized.

Somehow he managed to get through the crushed heap before him, tearing

down one layer after another before looking ahead to find some light poking

through a frame of the door. The Doctor waited for a moment while getting

his bearings.

“Next I'm building sonic bombs,” the Doctor scowled.

Just keeping digging which was his only hope in getting out of this dungeon

of junk. So many bumps could threatened the ceiling to fall down on top of

him. Focusing on his next task, stepping through the cut-up wall, the Doctor

noticed a cluttered interior of a box in front of him. This place was a bigger

mess than he thought.

He kicked at what appeared to be a door, striking out with a thoughtful foot

connecting to the lead casing. His perfect hit popped the metal door open

to the rest of the junkyard. And into the world again.

“Oh, that's good,” the Doctor said.

After a brief look-see, the Doctor noticed he stepped out of the trunk of a

Chrysler Valiant. Big. Rough. Stepping through the trunk section. It was a bit

undignified for him.

His hand snapped off the sonic sword while his thoughts fell into cartwheels of

ideas. He could see the TARDIS was still inside the compactor unit.

He figured on Clover and Bex taking care of themselves for the moment. So

could the TARDIS. Still he had the baby to think about, and he needed to

figure a way into the warehouse without getting caught.

The TARDIS held its own, always had. It was the most powerful thing in the

universe. Leaving the trunk behind, he hurried to the TARDIS in hopes of

balancing out the war with the Autons. The Doctor couldn't do this by himself.

He needed a little bit of help from friends. Especially a certain blue box stuck

in the car scrapyard.

It was the weight of the war that sometimes dragged his spirits down. His

concern with the Nestenes climbed into a clashing fury. Something burned in

his hearts every time he took a breath. It was anger.

 

Stirring into the warehouse section, following the floor section, Clover and Bex

found a car sitting in the middle. It seemed suspicious. It was a Mercury

Comet sitting on the floor without wheels.

Stopping at the trunk section, seeing the padlock on the door, Clover knew

something important must be waiting on the other side.

Clover figured it would lead to the heart of the operation if it was going to be

locked like this. What could it be? This trunk door was a stronghold of metal

which doubled her suspicions. Was the Mercury a front?

“I got this,” Clover said.

“I know you do,” Bex said. “What were those things in the break room?”

“Not friendly.”

“They looked like they could be made from plastic. Could there be aliens

made of plastic?”

“Your guess is good as mine. As ridiculous as it sounds!”

It was a door of metallic plight, yet the trunk door was good enough to open

through. Clover was ready to chop it with the sonic sword in hand, but

someone stepped into view inside the warehouse.

It was Trevors.

Besides him were the monsters of the building.

“You shouldn't be here,” Trevors said.

“There's something going on here. I know it. And those things...”

“Friends of mine,” Trevors nodded towards the coffee cup creature and the

Atari monster. “I believe there's a chance to make the world better. The

Autons show me a way...”

“What are you talking about?” Clover said.

“It's called the Nestene consciousness which controls the Autons. It is what

brings creatures like these alive.”

“You mean the Atari unit and the coffee cups are alive?” Bex said.

“That's right. There has been pollution in the water, the earth, the forests. This is what gives the Nestenes life! They are the next stage of evolution!”

“You're crazy!” Clover snapped.

“The humans won't be able to live on this planet for another hundred years,

but the conditions would be right for the Autons!”

“What about you?” Bex said. “Do you think you can co-exist with these

things?”

“I will be the last human being on the planet,” Trevors said. “The world

belongs to a higher order. It belongs to the Autons.”

“A junkyard owner is the last man on earth?” Clover said. “That's not going to

happen.”

“The Autons will expand their influence in China, the rest of Europe, Africa and

America. There will be so many Autons that it will become useless to fight

them.”

“So you're joining up with them?” Clover said. “You're a coward.”

“Mind your tongue. I don't take kindly to that. The Doctor is already out of the

picture. Now there's only the two of you left...”

“What do you mean?” Clover said. “That's the father of my child you're

talking about!”

The junkyard owner took a strident step below, looking a little offended. His

hand clenched around the railing while he was blocking the hallway leading

up into the warehouse.

“Too often I've been ridiculed for having this place,” Trevors said. “People

treated me like the lowest of the low. I was always dumped on. Now it's their

turn to see what's it like being bullied!”

“If you harmed the Doctor in any way, I'll kick your ass,” Clover said. “I'm

very good at kicking ass. I'll kick yours so hard it'll make your head spin.”

“You'll do nothing of the kind,” Trevors said. “Except maybe you might be

good candidates for our cause...”

“You're not only a coward, but a traitor as well,” Bex countered.

“I know you're from the future,” Trevors said. “You're all time-travellers, and the

Doctor is their long-time foe. He or she has interfered for too long. The Time

Lord is a threat. And so are you!”

The two creatures next to him began to step down the stairs, their frames

lingering with intent.

“Destroy!” Trevors shouted. “Total destruction!”


	3. Part Three

Now the Atari monster made his gallant walk on the stretch of floor, his hands

shifting with the controllers while loose wires wiggled with life. It moved with a

supernatural force.

Clover took the sonic sword before swiping it into the padlock, making a

clean cut, and she heard the thudding clunk of the weight. Behind her the

unearthly creatures shifted towards them while the owner barked orders at

them.

Clover pushed the trunk door open with all her might while Bex followed

inside without a hitch. It was almost like a scene from the Keystone Cops

comedy when the girls stumbling in.

So odd.

A trunk of a car leading to the basement.

It led to a plight of stairs. They saw the entire cellar was filled with a titular

activity of tiny spheres floating in a whirlwind in the center. There was a loud,

humming sound beating like a vibrant wave. The echoes of life emitted from

the free-floating spheres.

Those spheres.

They looked like Space Hoppers.

Seeing it was an unclean cellar, Bex grabbed the lead pipe from the floor to

jam it into the trunk door. It was a good enough fit while the girls struggled to

stay on the inside. It was so strange that the trunk of Mercury Comet led to a

cellar below. Which was more dangerous? Staying outside or in here?

“Do you hear it?” Bex said. “Some sort of ringing.”

“Or a pulse,” Clover said. “Or maybe it's a heartbeat. Trevors did mention

something about living things.”

“It's a constant roar. I'm not sure if I like where it's coming from!”

“Over there, perhaps?” Clover said.

They followed the pulsing sounds while walking on the cellar floor overlooking

the spat of elements in the middle of the pit-sized space. It looked like a

bunch of Space Hopper spheres hooking into each other like a giant,

pulsating heart.

Clover and Bex noticed the two people were hostages off the raised platform

and inside their own cubicles. They looked like prisoners of the mind. The

metal portico was empty.

Upon getting closer, being aware of their surroundings, the girls could see the

name tags on the captured men. Chad and Bumper, employees of this Abra-

Car-Dabra Junkyard. They were puppets of the Autons.

There were six-sided spheres near the prisoners much like the conglomeration making up the giant, beating pulse below. These smaller spheres gave off a stark, pulsing beat that was more of a twang.

It was almost like a signal. Almost mesmerizing in its efforts giving off an

elliptical glare which swirled on the inside. It continued to make that

heartbeat glow.

As if something was alive inside.

 

As the Doctor stepped away from the broken trunk door, finding his way from

the misplaced car trophy, he scanned the area as he could see more of the

same. It became a world of discarded items. Nothing more.

It might be safe for him to go from here to the compactor unit, though he

didn't have much trust in Autons staying quiet. Just a few steps at a time,

that's all.

There was a sudden electrical whirling.

Behind him!

The Doctor felt the Auton loop its arm around his neck in a strangle, pulling

him back with a thrust. It proved too strong for him to wrestle away. It was the

Chad unit which folded his plastic hands over his neck.

It wasn't particularly realistic in its features, resembling more of a waling

mannequin, being jerky in his movements. However, it was the mute presence

which proved disturbing.

As the Doctor reached into his pocket, he produced the sonic sword

while pointing it at the attacker's head. The Doctor could see the Bumper

Auton racing towards him with deliberate harm.

Pressing the button on the sword, hearing the outward burst of the

device, the Doctor gave the choking Auton the biggest headache. The Chad

unit swerved away while his hands reached to his forehead, his body aching

too much to pivot.

In the thrashing fight, while the Chad unit stepped away in havoc, it knocked

out the Doctor's sonic sword during its frenzied wail. The sonic device

landed on the scorched grounds.

Now the other Bumper Auton stirred towards him.

His hand popped open.

It was one of their concealed weapons which could be used like a gun. Such

a projectile weapon was directed at the Doctor as it focused on the moving

target. The Doctor didn't have much chance.

Now it was swivelling left and right while it tracked down the Doctor's motions

without a problem. Its movements were cued by the strange whirling,

mechanical sound.

The Doctor’s Venusian Aikido was a little rusty, which was a specialty

from one of the older incarnations, but he could still kick arse. Maybe the

Doctor will kick cosmic arse.

“Come on, you stupid plastic man,” the Doctor grumbled.

One of the laser shots tapped the ground only inches away. The Bumper

Auton was taking pot-shots at the Doctor. He stopped for a moment to catch

his breath. Both of his hearts thumped like hammers. His chest twitched with

awful grasps.

His hands dipped down to grab the loose car door, which lay on its back,

and he pulled it up like a standing domino. Staying in a crouching position,

the Doctor took cover behind the car door acting like a shield.

Whoosh!

Whoosh!

Clouds of smoke erupted from the Auton's open wrist, while the plastic hand

dangled on edge, and the protruding gun continued shooting. Shifting slow,

the Doctor held the flat of the car door while he was ready for a running

start. He held the car door like a battering ram.

Using his weight as leverage, and creating a momentum, the Doctor was

able to knock down the Bumper Auton with the car door. The fighting foe fell

to the ground while taking a misfire.

 

Now there was the constant pounding on the metal door which raked with

impatience. It sounded like a terrible force blasting into the door with

sprawling turrets of anger.

Pounding, crashing, the door rattled while the pursuers were growing more

desperate to break into the cellar space. Clover wheeled around to hear the

noises knifing into the air. Clover turned back to the glowing spheres.

“What about those Space Hoppers in the air?” Clover said.

“They're just whirling around,” Bex said.

“There are two of the strange cubes here,” Clover said. “And there are two of

these guys...”

“A coincidence?” Bex said.

“Not likely. The problem is what happens when we do something about the

cubes?”

“You're asking me? I don't know.”

“What happens if we smash the glowing cubes. Is it going to kill them? Or it is

going to let them out of whatever funk they're in?” Clover said. “Is it some

kind of mental link?”

“Or maybe a lifeline?” Bex said. “That's the dilemma. These are the questions

the Doctor deals with.”

“He isn't here,” Clover said.

“Don't think like that.”

“Maybe he is,” Clover said. “Trevors could be full of shit when he's talking like

that.”

“I'm sure the Doctor's fine. He's gotten out of tight scraps before. Trevors is

lying,” Bex said.

“It looks like the time to choose,” Clover said. “This better be the right thing to

do! And we still have Mr. Atari and Mr. Coffee after us!”

“You got my vote,” Bex said. “These men are good as dead if we don't get

them out of the loop. Breaking those cubes might do the trick.”

“There's something else,” Clover said. “Are they real or are they copies?”

“Time to find out! There's no other way!”

“Right!”

The door continued to rattle vehemently with the eager thrusts of anger while

the outside forces tackled the barrier with extreme measures. It sounded like

a battering ram kept hitting the metal door, and all of kingdom come was

ready to cave in.

Clover could feel the shaking in the ground while she looked at the tiny,

glowing cubes. What were those things? Were they meant to belong to the

Nestene consciousness? Were they simply foot soldiers gathering intel on the

planet earth?

Raising the pipe she found off the floor, Bex made good on her promise to

smash the beating sphere to pieces. Since Clover got the sonic sword, Bex will make do with this.

She swung the pipe straight into the cube on the tables with crushing results.

They broke apart like glass while the electrical beat stopped. Shards rained

on the floor with a buzzing mess.

Bex decided to have a go with the other one. It was going to take only a

moment.

 

As the Bumper Auton began lifting the no-longer-concealed gun, it made a

sudden seizure as if it was struck by lightning. It dropped to the ground

without firing off another round.

Gathering his wits, and his gaze lingering, the Doctor watched both Autons

fall away to an unceremonious end. A sudden chill penetrated his senses as

he could see how the Autons were cut away from their strings.

“Sod off!” the Doctor growled.

The Doctor kicked the Chad Auton's head which was sent off like a soccer

ball. It rolled over the mound of junk before falling away to the bottom of the

ratty hole.

“That's it,” the Doctor muttered. “I bet Clover and Bex had something to do

with this in the warehouse.”

Crouching low, not forgetting his old friend, the Doctor gripped the sonic

sword. His fingers plunked at the delicate scrap of metal before

pocketing it. The sonic sword was still undamaged goods.

His thoughts turned to the knight-in-shining armor scuffle as he needed to make

a big plan to stop the Autons from spreading like wildfire. There must be a

way to stop them from being the next stage of evolution on this planet. He

was going to work it out somehow. A time-bomb!

He knew what he would do next. The Doctor didn't need to go to some

fancy laboratory to build an invention, but he was right in the middle of

everything he needed. In this wrecking yard.

He knew what he was going to do.

The Doctor was going to build a time-bomb.

Stealing over the scraps and leftovers of the junk, he checked through every

hook and cranny of the area. He would built a time-bomb out of grim

determination.

It could work.

Only needed some expert preparations.

The Doctor was inspired.

Turning his attention to his surroundings, he grabbed a few things to throw

together. Some scraps here. Some junk here. He made several attempts to

build the invention from scratch.

While readying the device, cobbled together through the snippets discarded

on the scrap heap. The Doctor was going to make the unusable usable here.

His inspiration came rushing to his head while he threaded between the

crumbled piles. He was working here. And working over there! His footsteps

shuffled as he hatched up a devilish scheme in his head.

“Now I have to be more careful from now on,” the Doctor said. “This could be

very dangerous.”

This Abra-Car-Dabra Junkyard seemed to be like a storage room at his

disposal. His fingers plunked at the fragments like a piano player hitting the

right piano keys to find the right notes.

The Doctor had hoped he would never resort to this. After finding all the

ingredients he needed for his work, he carried the time-bomb in his hands. He

never thought he would use something like this. Until now.

Soon the Doctor will need to give the time-bomb life. He was going to need

to jumpstart it in the TARDIS. His eyes lifted towards the compactor just ahead of him.

It would be the only place where he could get the power of time itself for

starting up the time-bomb, and the TARDIS could play its hand on setting it

up.

The TARDIS was still laying down on its side in the compactor.

It might take some doing.

 

Gallifrey.

The world of Time-Lords.

His thoughts turned to another part of his life where he was new to the

universe.

“The Time-Lords,” the old man said. “They may send someone after you.”

“Why?” the Doctor had asked.

“They're like a tidal wave of power. If you stand in their way, they'll crush you

like a tsunami. They're hell-bent on power! They want to take control of you!”

“I'm not going to let them,” the Doctor scowled.

“You're going to put up a good show,” the old man. “Never give up. You'll

need to think about getting ahead of the Time-Lords.”

“The pressure is getting to me,” the Doctor said. “Feels like the hand of God

collecting around us.”

“They're a relentless bunch,” the old man said. “Now I've gone right into the

hornet’s nest and plucked you out. They'll be angry.”

“They sound like monsters,” the Doctor said.

“Your memories will keep returning to you,” the old man said. “It's only a

matter of time.”

“Time?” the Doctor faltered. “Time...”

“You must remember never to waste your life,” the old man said. “Do you

understand? Now begins the rest of your days. Make good use of it. Do good

deeds around the universe.”

“I'll try to do that,” the Doctor said.

“That's good. I believe in you,” the old man said. “I know there's plenty good

in you.”

“What are you doing to do now?”

“Since it's too dangerous for you to fall into the hands of the Time-Lords,” the

old man said. “I'm going to take you somewhere safe where you can recuperate and find yourself until your own TARDIS is ready. The universe

needs you.”

“Will I see you again?” the Doctor said.

As the old man turned slightly, he patted the Doctor's shoulder with his hand with approval. The old man also gave a small smile.

The old man seemed like someone willing to jump from one war to another,

his face carved with the ridges of the battlefield. His eyes sank with horizons of sadness as he nodded with bittersweet farewell.

“Keep one step ahead of those bastards,” the old man said.

They turned together and returned into the TARDIS where Clover awaited them. That blue box looked so familiar with the words Police Public Call Box over the doors. The old man moved like the cold of the night.

This was a man of war. This was the one who saved the universe a thousand

times over, bringing his brand of salvation to others who needed him. Nothing

heartless. Nothing cruel. The old man was the cosmic citizen who helped

others.

“Come with me, if you want to live,” the old man said. “I need to lead you to

the third planet in a solar system.”

The Doctor realized who the old man was when he stepped into the blue box

like a warrior sharpening the knives of war. The machine whirled from inside

the blue box as his eyes appraised the current situation as something

desperate. He moved inside like a magician playing another magic trick. Now

the blue box became a blur when it disappeared under the cradle of the

Time-lord's anger.

It would be time for the Doctor to leave too.

The Doctor would make good on his promise to bring peace to the universe.

Also he would pay homage to the original, make sure to honor the fast trending time-traveller stepping into the blue box.

The old man.

The TARDIS.

Everything made sense to the Doctor now, but he knew he would follow the

old man in his steps. There was only one place they would go. The adopted

home world. It was inviting too.

Earth.

And the rest of history would follow.

 

Inside the warehouse cellar, in the middle of the fright, Clover and Bex could

see they ran into a dead end now. There was still the two men waking up

from their stasis, a little confused.

One of them was Chad who staggered out with a bit of fatigue, his footsteps

were sluggish. He resembled a drunk stepping out of a bar at two in the

morning.

So did his friend Bumper who looked like he was behind in the times... his legs

faltered while he seemed physically drained by some life source. His shoulder

hugged the wall as he propped himself up.

Down the aisle, sloshing against the metal blockage, were the attackers

carving their way through. It was the wrecking crew led by the human Trevors.

Bex grabbed hold of Chad's shoulder, helping him out of the cell.

“I.. remember stepping through the junkyard at night,” Chad said. “Something

got a hold of me.”

“You can reminiscence some other time,” Bex said.

“I feel tuckered out.”

“I'll carry you if I have to,” Clover snarled.

“No thanks,” Chad said.

“Where am I?” Bumper said. “How did I get here?”

“Never mind that!” Clover said. “You can come with us!”

“I don't even know who you are!” Bumper snapped.

“It's either us or them!” Clover said while glancing over to the intruders

stomping through the broken door.

One of the little sphere-like Space Hoppers bolted from the giant, whirling

mass and nearly hit Bex as it flew by. It flung back like a rubber band as Bex

steadied herself.

“Those things are attacking us!” Bex cried out.

“Deadly Space Hoppers!” Clover said.

“Look out!” Chad cried out.

The little bopping things shot out again one at a time, trying to tag the knot

of people in a frenzy of attacks. One Space Hopper would shoot out like a

restless beast leaping at them only to return to its swirling source.

Bex used the pipe she found and knocked one of the Space Hoppers away

with a fiery hit. The bouncing, prying Space Hopper seemed frightened

enough to bounce back.

“I can see why they were intending to sell every junk car with a Space

Hopper here!” Clover added.

The cluster of monsters pushed through the peelings of the door, ripping it

further, before finding their way into the cellar with an impatient roar. The

collective voice of anger could be heard from the intruders. One of them was

Trevors. They were almost through!

“I think I'll go this way,” Bumper conceded.

“Smart choice, bro,” Clover said.

“Do you know a way out of the cellar?” Bex said.

“The storage room down the corridor,” Chad said. “There's a window you can

climb through. It's small and narrow. I think you should be able to pull through

fine...”

“Thanks,” Bex said.

“As for the other girl, I'm not sure,” Chad added.

“Hey!” Clover said. “I'm not fat!”

“I think we ought to go now,” Bex said.

“You won't get any arguments from me!” Bumper snapped.

The pursuers began shuffling onto the hanging platform as Trevors and

company stomped onto the metal flooring. Trevor's face clenched with anger

as he signalled for the others to make haste.

Clover and her friends took to the other direction, hoping to make some

distance between them, their footsteps plundered through the cracks of

darkness. The Space Hoppers were ready to dart again!

Lifting the sonic sword in her hands, making ready for a good fight, Clover

never lived down a chance to battle someone. Her fingers clenched around

the hilt as Trevors stepped towards her like some overbearing ringleader

leading his troops. Would she be a match for them?

At the very same time, Bex and the others moved towards the storage room

while leaving Clover behind. Bex darted gingerly through the dark, but stood

idle a moment when her eyes met with Clover's. She could see Clover was

signalling for her to go. Bex felt her muscles cramp when she found it was too

difficult for her to move. She didn't want to leave Clover behind.

“You'll find you're no match for the Autons,” Trevors said.

“So it takes the three of you to fight me?” Clover said. “You're a coward.”

“The Autons will be the pioneers of this world, not the humans,” Trevors said to her. “The humans are not helping this world by turning into a wasteland.”

“You're all big talk, nothing more,” Clover said. “And you need Space

Hoppers to do your dirty work too!”

“This is extinction.”

“Including yourself,” Clover belted back. “Can't you see how stupid this

sounds?”

“They're too strong,” Trevors said. “So powerful.”

“You don't even know what it’s like to be human anymore,” Clover said to

him. “You've lost sight. I still know what it's like to be human. I'm going to give

birth to a child. It's going to be a spark of life! That's something to look

forward to you. What about you? It's all death and destruction!”

“They're in power now!”

“What makes you think they won't take you over?” Clover said. “You're no

different from the rest of us! You won't be the last human! You'll be one of

them!”

“Shut up! That's not true!” Trevors shouted. “

“They'll turn on you like wild animals! They're just plastic!”

“Stop them! Stop them all!” Trevors ordered the Autons. “Destroy! Total

destruction!”

One and two more of the Space Hoppers began to fling towards the girls,

pouring through the air like cheap shots. Clover carved one up with the sonic

swords while Bex used the pipe to fight them off.

Chad ducked with a worried look while one of the Space Hoppers tried to

catch him, but it bounced around like a video game character. His hands

clutched at the railing while the Space Hoppers went crazy.

Bop!

Bop bop!

There was the sound of grinding engines spilling into the air, like a wave of

constant echoes, and the crackling noises of the machine roared into a loud

boom. That shuffling of winds tumbled into a whirlwind bringing with it

something familiar.

The rambling noises of the TARDIS materialized on the floor while cutting off

Trevor and his cohorts from the escapees. It stood like a growing storm,

making its presence known without being shy.


	4. Part Four

The blue box stood in front of the confused Trevors who looked upset with the

interruption. No longer were there the booming engines as an uncomfortable

silence settled.

He caught sight of the TARDIS with disapproval as he realized this was the

same one the Nestene consciousness spoke to him about. One of the Autons

was nearly knocked off balance due to the random TARDIS landing.

Seemingly frightened, the Space Hoppers bounced back to the whirling mass

of spheres, joining once again the floating conglomeration.

Some of the Space Hoppers tried to get at Clover, but they swarmed into the

the Atari monster by mistake. She dived in without a word as she swung the

sonic sword into it with a powerful melee. It was more than enough to cause

it and the Space Hoppers to fall to the floor in a dead heap.

“Damn! I was hoping his head would come off!” Clover said.

“Since when were you violent?” Bex said.

“Since now!”

“What's that?” Chad said while pointing to the blue box.

“It's the Doctor!” Bex shouted.

“My lover!” Clover said with a smile.

“You don't need to announce it to the rest of the world!”

“I thought you ought to know!”

“I already know!”

The Doctor popped out of the blue box, wearing a crisp, pressed jacket and

dangling necktie that was straighter than an arrow. It hanged on him with a

business perfect frame.

However, the Doctor reserved a hard look at Trevors as he offered an

accusing stare. He squeezed with his knees while coming out of the TARDIS

with a contraption held between his hands.

“How come it took you so long to get here?” Clover said.

“Ran into a little trouble!” the Doctor said.

“What sort of trouble?”

 

His thoughts turned back.

It was more than a friend to him. More than just a long-time companion. Now

the TARDIS found itself in an undignified spot.

Trapped inside the compactor.

A graveyard spot.

So the Doctor needed to climb onto the top of the TARDIS to get into the

interior, but it was going to be tricky. He produced the key which he fitted

into the lock, and opened it.

The Doctor prepared himself for the fall, and he grabbed onto the door edge

to prevent himself from slipping further. He was like a fish dangling on a fishing hook.

The entire room was lopsided as he jumped down to the console, throwing a

few settings to straighten out the room! He remained on the hexagonal

console while setting things right side up!

Nothing to it!

The TARDIS console room was standing upright.

The Doctor stuck his head out of the TARDIS doors like a jack-in-the box, and

figured his ship was still stuck in the compactor. No problem. He would get out

of this in a jiffy.

He needed to find a way to extract the energy from the heart of the TARDIS

so he could use it for his time-bomb. He wouldn't dare look into it, but he

could still feel the cosmic energies throbbing inside. It would fill his soul with a

sudden roar.

“We need to do this perfectly. Do you understand?” the Doctor said to the

TARDIS. “I still have Clover and Bex to think about.”

The TARDIS made a knowing sound while it cooperated with the Doctor, and

he felt the mind's eye of the machine filling the time-bomb itself. It was the

surgery of the cosmos.

He could hear the heartbeat of the TARDIS.

 

“This is as far as you'll go!” the Doctor said.

“You have no idea what these things are capable of!” Trevors snapped.

“The Nestenes will turn the earth into a smouldering pile of rock just to live

on it! They're willing to commit genocide to the humans!”

“So be it!” Trevors said.

“Do you know what that mass is?” the Doctor said while looking up towards

the collecting spheres.

“It's probably the heart,” Clover answered. “I can hear it pulsing.”

“They're Space Hoppers!” Bex said.

“That's just a guise for them,” the Doctor replied.

“You take the fun out of it!”

“The stronger the sphere is, the stronger the signal is here. The so-called

Space Hoppers help to create the bridge between here and the Auton

home world.”

“Your knowledge is remarkable,” Trevors snarled.

“I'm looking for the brain here. The center of operations!”

“There's his office!” Chad said. “No one ever goes in there except for Mr.

Trevors!”

“You little traitor,” Trevors snarled.

“What's in the office, Trevors?” the Doctor scowled.

“Nothing of interest!”

“You can do better than that.”

“Nothing except chairs and tables for meetings!”

“There's a reason why you keep the office door locked,” the Doctor said. “I'm

going to find out.”

The Doctor held the time-bomb in his hands, being a hodgepodge of ticking

clocks and other accessories—his fingers clenched around it while he held the

cumbersome object to his chest. The Autons receded from it as if the device

was giving off bad vibes.

That souped-up contraption seemed to be a living beast of circuits. As the

Doctor held the gadget in his hands, the Autons seemed to flinch from its

humming. They were like a cat afraid of its own shadow.

“What's making the Autons afraid like that?” Clover said.

“It's the time energy from the device,” the Doctor said. “It's like poison to

them.”

“Oh. Won't it affect us?”

“Not at all. They're not going to get near this when I have it in my hands,” the

Doctor said. “The time-bomb emits signals to fend them off...”

“This is futile!” Trevors said.

“Not at all! I have an important delivery to make to your masters!” the Doctor

snapped.

“No! NO!” Trevors shouted. “They're going to do a world of good here. You

have no idea humans are the most violent animals on the planet!”

“They don't even score high when compared to the Nestenes!” the Doctor

snapped. “Show me where the office is!”

“No!”

“I'll show you where it is!” Chad said.

“Good show!” the Doctor said. “The rest of you go into the TARDIS! I'll be with

you shortly!”

“You're not thinking of leaving in the middle of the fight?” Bex said. “Those

Space Hopper things are getting jittery.”

“This isn't a fight,” the Doctor said. “I'm going to send a message. Now go

back to the TARDIS.”

The Doctor still held the machine in his hands, creating a whirling echo of

time, and the constant noise made the Nestenes flinch. He made the a

gesture as he shoved the time-bomb near the coffee cup monster which

backed away with a splitting headache.

There was something in the machine which made the Nestenes frightened, a

stirring nest of time echoes. Time energy, perhaps. It was little pieces of time

which made them recoil.

“Take it easy, man,” Bumper said.

“Will do,” Chad piped.

“We have a path we can go through,” the Doctor announced.

“Yes, sir,” Chad said. “I have no idea what you're planning.”

“I'm making things right,” the Doctor said. “It's what I do. You can go back to

your boring Saturday evenings and dull routine after this is done...”

“Who says I'm boring?” Chad said.

“You work at a car junkyard. That's beneath you.”

As the Doctor reached the stairway leading through the car trunk, he

stopped for a moment feeling a bit of Deja vu. Then he shook his head while

carrying the time-bomb.

And he took to the hallway, finding Chad was still at his side. They took long

strides to walk towards the main office. As the Doctor hit the middle of the

hallway, Clover caught up with him.

She made giddy, bouncing steps like a tap dancer trying to show off her

skills. She was like the teenage kid getting her daddy to go out to the circus.

The Doctor stopped for a moment like he realized something.

“I thought I told you to stay with the others,” the Doctor barked.

“Not this time,” Clover said. “I'm not losing you again.”

“You can be a very headstrong girl. Not always the brightest one...!”

“I love you, right? That means I'm not letting a would-be father of my child on

the loose again.”

“You do realize how important the child is?”

“Always!”

“If you're having a lover's spat, I could go back to your TARDIS!” Chad said.

“Never mind!” the Doctor said. “I still need directions!”

There was the office door with the “keep out” sign hanging on it. Not very

friendly even by corporate standards, though it didn't stop the Doctor from

stepping into the room.

It was found at the far end of the warehouse where it stretched into a

heaving, tunnelling corridor. It made one felt like the walls developed eyes for

watching intruders.

“This is it,” Chad said.

“Open the door,” the Doctor demanded.

“It's locked. I can't get in there.”

“Hold on a minute,” Clover said. “I always wanted to do this.”

“You watch too many cop shows,” Chad commented.

“You can fiddle around with the lock. I'd rather be doing this!”

Clover kicked the door with her foot, making a grand slam, and it flung back

with a hard twang. It made a creaking sound as Clover helped herself into

the office filled with a gallery of computes.

It was much more advanced and spell-binding than the 1970s were capable

  1. The Doctor lured himself into the office while eying the sophisticated beast



of machines.

There was the strangest door sitting in the middle of the room which seemed

to grin with darkness. The thin, narrow frame of the door remained while the

Doctor and crew could see the surroundings looking something out of a

future set from the movie Westworld.

“Mama Mia!” Clover said.

“Exactly!” the Doctor said as he carried the time-bomb into the room.

“This is impossible!” Chad said. “I've never seen anything like this before!”

“This is the Nestenes’ technology,” the Doctor said. “The usual characteristics

of Polymos. Resistance to corrosion and chemicals, low electrical and thermal

conductivity, high strength-to-weight ratio... that sort of thing.”

“Oh?” Chad said.

“The use of radio waves will give the Autons the height of their victory. That's

what those Space Hoppers are doing. They're collecting signals!”

“You have a trick up your sleeve,” Clover beamed. “You always do!”

Someone followed the others into the room, his lungs clenched with breaths

as he looked like he was on the edge of defeat. Trevors was no one who

would give up.

“I'm sorry about this, master,” Trevors said. “I could not stop them.”

It is too late, Doctor! The Autons will be bringing their army within minutes!

Victory will be ours!

“You were amassing all those spheres in the cellar to feed you enough

power,” the Doctor said. “The more spheres you can amass, the stronger the

signals.”

Until we will be able to create a bridge between here and to your planet!

And then we shall thrive!

“It's not exactly my planet, but it's under my care,” the Doctor said.

You are a fool to shelter this planet. It will soon be ours! My people will strip

this planet dry of its resources!

“I can't let you hurt anyone here!”

This is our horizon of power! This is the day of the Nestenes!

“Not today, it is,” the Doctor said.

What is that? What. Is. That?

“I've been preparing for this,” the Doctor growled. “I don't think I've ever

visited your planet before. There's always a first time!”

You are not allowed!

“That's a doorway, isn't it?” the Doctor said. “A vortex corridor between

worlds. Which means it can work both ways!”

“You'll walk into your doom!” Trevors snapped.

“Not bloody likely!”

The Doctor continued to hold the time-bomb between his hands as he

stepped into the doorway, and it felt like the gusts of time gripped him as he

steadied himself.

It looked like he was walking through a psychedelic beam of stars, staggering

colors and swirling nebula. This was the highlight of the cosmic elements

which trembled with penetrating force.

As the Doctor continued walking, he swore he could see the moving

constellations as if the universe was moving on its own. These were many

snapshots of many words in the scenic route. The Doctor gritted his teeth

while holding his own against the crosswalk.

On the other end of the bridge, flitting between the fanatical whirl of time

and space wrapping pegged the edges, the Doctor took careful strides while

carrying the time-bomb.

Finally his footing clamped against the edge of the other doorway, leaving

behind the giant expanse of space, he would soon enter the slaughterhouse

waiting for him.

He found himself on an entirely different world where the air was thick with

constant fumes. It was like stepping through a fog which seeped into his

lungs. The Doctor figured he got a few minutes to breath here before the

atmosphere would prove fatal for his health.

This was Polymos.

The planet of the Nestenes.

The surroundings of giant cities, a spiral of technology and the mire of toxic

wastes cobbled together in this mire on which the Nestenes thrived on. It

looked like a city of gods. It became a nest of darkness.

Stop him! Stop the Doctor!

They were things without form now, toiling movements that shuffled like rancid

wastes. The Doctor held the time-bomb towards them like someone ready to

deliver a greeting card. The contraption emitted a wave of energy which

countered the Nestenes from coming closer.

They flinched back while the Doctor coughed out loud the foetid air which

churned in his lungs which turned into sick bags. The Doctor forced himself to

remain on the surface of Polymos.

You are bringing death to us!

“You would have done the same to the human race!” the Doctor said. “I

can't let you do that! Cough!”

I do not understand your affinity for the human race. They are nothing more

than skin bags!

“You'll never understand,” the Doctor said. “That's what separates us. This

time-bomb will cut the signal from the earth and sealing you off with a time

explosion. No one will be the lesser for it!”

The Doctor. The great warrior. The one who changes the direction of the

universe! The fool of the cosmos! The one who runs!

“Stand back! Cough!”

I will show you true power!

 

Bex and Bumper watched the strange whirlpool of spheres cycling between

each other like some beating heart. Her instincts told her she should go back

to the TARDIS. She wouldn't do such a thing.

Against all reasons, she remained outside the TARDIS. All the adventure she’d already had with the Doctor was too much to ignore. She couldn't just stay on the side-lines. How could she?

Her hands gripped the railing while seeing the globular objects spiking with a

frantic beat. That signal was getting stronger and stronger, maybe faster. Her

eyes turned to see Mr. Atari starting up the stairs on its feet.

Behind her, like a partner in crime, the coffee cup monster was toiling towards

her as well. It was like seeing a scene from the Night of the Living Dead. It

rippled with deadly moves.

“That's what you get for playing video games,” Bumper said. “They come

back to bite you.”

“If you like video games now, wait until they come around twenty years

later,” Bex said.

“Oh great. I'll be an old man.”

“Here they come!”

“We're trapped between them. We should go back inside the blue box!”

As the Atari Auton shuffled up to the top of the steps, shifting like waves of an

ocean, it moved towards Bex and Bumper with a silent fury. It became fuelled

with rage.

So did the coffee cup Auton which lifted its hands, making strange, whirling

sounds like clunky robots. Bex timed it just right before the Atari Auton lunged

at Bumper and her.

The Atari Auton threw a wide punch as Bex ducked to avoid the hit. She

moved further to the side while the Atari Auton stepped forward in a

combative mode. It was difficult to fight plastic.

Stepping out of the way, pulling Bumper with her, the two Autons slammed

into each other in a savage collision. They tumbled slightly as they tried to pull

from each other like stuck fools.

Bumper grabbed the table near his cubicle and walloped the attackers over

the heads. It smashed to pieces while the Autons staggered like some

creature from a Ray Harryhausen movie.

“Nice one!” Bex shouted.

The Autons struggled in their closely knit predicament, and Bex pulled Bumper

back from the bizarre horror which shifted into an uncontrollable wreckage.

She could see the hallows of their faces.

The Space Hopper things began to grow agitated. They circled around poor

Bumper before swarming him, their plush weight coalesced around him like a

choking plastic.

His hand stuck out between the yellow, bouncing spheres as he cried out. Bex

tried to pull one or two of the Space Hoppers back, but there were like a

legion of monsters. Choking him to death.

Bex wasn't sure if she could fight them all at once.

 

The Nestene consciousness lifted up into a height of horror while still

remaining a bobbly, surging force that could shatter the skies. It rippled with

life as it became a restless beast.

This was the essence of the Nestenes. It was like a hive where the queen bee

ordered the other bees to follow. This was the hive. It was a civilization as old

as darkness itself.

Was it right for the Doctor do this? His thoughts fell into a pit of doubt as he

thought about it. Still his mind raked with the morals of his actions. Much too

late to do anything about it now!

While coughing, the Doctor kept a sharp eye on the other Nestene creatures

before propping the time-bomb down. His lungs clenched like gasping hurt

as he set the invention for a countdown. He coughed more as the crude

atmosphere strangled him with hacking, choking pain.

It would be so easy for us to swarm you. To cut you off. And you'll be

stranded here. Eventually the air will kill you.

“I finally got to see your planet,” the Doctor said. “Can't say I'm impressed.

Cough. Cough.”

Our sun will be exploding and our planet will go with it. Will you condemn all of us to death?

“You should meet your end with more dignity,” the Doctor said.

You will die!

“I'm going to seal the door forever!” the Doctor shouted. “You're finished!

Cough!”

There will be no song for this Time-Lord's death. Only darkness!

As the Doctor turned to see the Nestenes crowding around him, they began to

swarm the gate to block him off. They had reached a stalemate with him.

They would soon be destroyed, but so would he if he stayed.

The Doctor fixed his hand around one of the rocks on the ground as he

placed it near the time-bomb's essence, and the rock spat into a fiery energy

that looked like a living element.

He made a good right hook toss while the rock was dropped into the middle

of the Nestenes. It was giving off the echoes of the time flux. The energy from

the TARDIS was too much for them. The Nestenes scattered from the beating

rock as it gave him plenty of elbow room to get back.

You'll never reach it in time. Your death will be our victory!

“Not yet, you over-bloated windbag!” the Doctor scowled.

As the Doctor stumbled to the ground, he could feel his lungs heavy as coal.

Something exploded into a stupor in his chest while he felt like he was

enduring endless hours crawling.

Gulfs of toxic fumes mulled at his breaths while it felt like rocks were poured

into his still beating chest. It thumped maddeningly into a bursting flame. He

could no longer breathe.

The Doctor slipped on the rocky gorge as he trampled along on the flats of

his hands. So close! So damned close to the finishing line. And yet he was

worlds apart. His coughs met with a thundering clap of pain.

It hooked into his throat with a terrible dryness while his breathing grew more

labored. His lungs were thick as porridge now as he could barely move on his

own.

Die! Die, Doctor! We will rejoice in your death! Seeing you perish will be a

great pleasure!

The Doctor looked up to see doorway mocking him, and realized he would

not see Clover or his child again. It was a foolhardy thing to do, but he always

put others ahead of him. It was his promise to the old man.

No doubt the Autons were cackling around him in the side-lines while this city

turned into a giant tomb for him. In comparison, it was not the worse way to

  1. It was still a final note.



Something leaped through the portal as she found herself some footing on

the ground. The Doctor could see a young woman's thriving frame made a

cutting path towards him through the foetid, polluted muck.

It was Clover.

In saving grace.

The Doctor could not believe it. What the hell was she doing here? His hands

pushed with all the might he could muster while the world seemed to fall on

top of him.

“What are you doing?” the Doctor snapped. “No human can withstand the

atmosphere on Polymos!”

“Don't you ever shut up?” Clover said.

“It's... impossible!”

“Come on, hero, I'm not leaving you here...”

“Maybe.. it's the baby,” the Doctor said. “It's... helping you to offset the

cancer running in the air...”

“You can lean on me!” Clover said. “You're heavy!”

“What are you doing?”

“Saving your ass for a change!”

“You might want to take care of the baby! Your baby might be the most

important citizen in the universe!”

The Doctor made one more backwards glance as he looked over his

shoulder to see the time-bomb going off. There grew throbbing echoes of

time ensnaring the Nestenes in a fallen swoop. His hands rudely pushed

Clover through the portal while he followed her in.

The time-bomb didn't stop exploding while the Nestenes were swallowed

whole by the echoes of time itself. Their voices fell into a wilderness of pain as

the Doctor and Clover escaped.

Countless waves of time exploding! It was going off while the Doctor moved

along with Clover through the vortex. They finally reached the warehouse

office as the Doctor got a good breath of earth's air.

“You're all right now,” Clover said. “What would have happened if the time bomb reached us?”

“Nothing good. It would have made us slow down and grow old until we

crumbled into ashes,” the Doctor said.

“You took an awful chance.”

“The Nestenes are cut off from earth for good.”

“What have you done!” Trevors cried out.

“The portal is being sealed off,” the Doctor said while catching his breath. “It's

folding onto itself! There won't be anything left!”

“You can't do this! The Nestenes are our salvation!”

“Stand away from the portal!” the Doctor said to Clover.

A sudden lash of energy, rippling into effect, leaped out of the portal while

Clover ducked out of its way. However, running between the Clover and the

Doctor, Trevors got caught in the fury of time energy.

“Take me! Take me instead!” Trevors snapped.

As he pushed Clover out of the way, sending her over into the Doctor's

clutches, the strings of energy pulled Trevors into the doorway before closing.

His shouts fell into the darkness while the Doctor clutched at Clover to pull her

into safety.

Trevors was pulled into the spiralling mouth, dragging into the peeling layers

until he slipped into nothingness. His footsteps fell into the time trap before the

energy ripped apart the doorway.

It folded itself like a cosmic Rubix Cube, growing smaller, until it became

nothing more than a dot. Then it disappeared without so much a peek into

the Nestenes world. It was finished.

“Jesus, is it all done?” Chad said.

“We won't see the Nestenes anymore,” the Doctor said. “It's over. It's

finished.”

“How can you be sure?” Chad said.

“Their planet will be trapped in the influence of the time-bomb for sure. Every

second to them will be like a century...”

“That sounds horrifying. Are we going to see Trevors again?”

“Not likely,” the Doctor said. “Unless there's an off-hand chance he slipped out

of the vortex and ended up on some planet. I doubt it.”

The Doctor felt right enough to walk around in the office room while he

checked over the computer systems. This place was silent as a grave. Much

of the technology here was alien.

“It's a terrible thing what happened to the boss,” Chad said.

“He was a psycho boss,” Clover added.

“He wasn't so bad.”

“Not so good either...”

The Doctor pressed a few buttons like a madman getting an inspiration, and

his fingers plucked many switches. Some of the computers burst into a frantic

nest of flowering flames.

Clover flinched from the exploding computer panel next to her. Another one

blew up like an early Fourth of July. Chad fled to the safety of the room while

hearing the cackling fire festering with eager booms.

“What did you do that for?” Chad scowled.

“Did I do that?” the Doctor said. “Oh yes, I did. I did. Can't have humans

getting a hold of this sort of alien tech. Especially the likes of UNIT who'll turn it into a weapon.”

“I could have thrown it all out!”

“Not enough. It needs to be completely destroyed,” the Doctor said. “Can't

let one scrap of it survive. Time to get back to the TARDIS!”

“Are you always blowing up stuff?” Chad complained.

“Yep!” Clover said.

As the Doctor led the others from the office, they darted through the

warehouse's length while the computers were building up in power. Their

furtive footsteps collected in haste while rushing back.

The screams of the fire pinched their ears. It looked like a great wave of

destruction needling between the computers as another explosion blew from

the panels. Voices of doom filled the hallways. It became a somber note.

The Autons began to crash into the floor while the globular sphere wobbled

with inconsistent movements. No longer was it a strong, beating signal, but a

slow, rugged lighthouse beacon coming to a static halt.

The attacking Autons faltered more before falling to the floor in a deadness.

Furthermore, in the height of defeat, they looked like puppets with strings cut.

The giant sphere of spheres waned into a flatline.

The Space Hoppers crumbled away like dropped bricks, their frames rocked

by a stillness. Bex could feel her mind was flooding with all kinds of questions.

It seemed like the Autons met with the altar of doom.

They fell away from Bumper who was able to take deep breath again. It was

like being under the ocean of plastic which suffocated him. Bumper thought

he was a goner.

“I'm alive!” he snapped while catching his breath.

“Thank goodness!” Bex said. “I wasn't sure if I could reach you in time!”

“They're not moving anymore!” Bumper said.

“It could be the Doctor's finally done it,” Bex said.

“I would imagine so. He seems to be a wizard here.”

“Not magic. He's a wizard of science,” Bex corrected.

“How long have you known him?”

“Not long enough!”

“Is he your boyfriend or something too?”

“What? No. NO! It's nothing like that.”

“The Doctor seems to have Clover. Maybe if this is all over, we could have a

pizza or something...”

“Sorry, but I don't swing your way,” Bex said.

“Huh? I almost died!”

“Don't play with Space Hoppers!”

Interrupting the most intimate moment, the Doctor, Clover and Chad hurried

into the warehouse space. Their frantic frames cut in between the hampered

Autons who lay on the floor like fallen soldiers.

This eyebrow lifted at the dead Space Hoppers. The Doctor looked at the

tangled Autons while uttering a simple “Hmmph!” before gathering his wits.

Bex was going to say something, but he already beat her to it.

“Into the TARDIS!” the Doctor said. “Now!”

“Prepare yourselves!” Bex said to the newbies. “It's a once in a lifetime

opportunity!”

“No time to dally!” the Doctor snapped.

“Where is Trevors?” Bex said.

“He won't be joining us!” Chad said.

“No skin off my nose!” Bumper snarled.

“This place is going to blow!” Clover shouted. “Inside!”

“Is it going to be big enough to fit us all?” Chad complained.

They filed into the blue box when the entire warehouse began to tremble

and the Autons were trapped in their idle moments. All of the rippling, round

spheres were breaking apart while the rushing fire took hold of the

warehouse itself.

As the small knot of people clambered inside like noon hour rush, scrambling

for room, the Doctor shut the doors from the inside. The old grinding of noises

flooded the machine of time with drowning echoes.

And now it was leaving its current space, making its departure from the crude

battlefield of the dead. It thundered with music of the loud engines while it

disappeared from the warehouse like a gust of wind.

It bellowed with a hurricane of sound.

The TARDIS would find its way again.

 

After the TARDIS made a short hop into the Abra-Car-Dabra Junkyard space,

well away from the burning warehouse, the crew littered out of the blue box

like wandering tourists.

Some of them like Chad and Bumper were a little confused, and alarmed, by

the interior of the TARDIS which threw everything they knew about the

universe out the window. How could a small box carry all of that?

Now the warehouse was tumbling down with a forest of fires plundering it.

Quivering! Stirring! As they looked at the warehouse with its blocky facade,

the assaulting fire took to the walls like a plague.

Now the witnesses watched the fingers of fire fall into despair while Trevor's

fortress of junk was turning into ruins. The Doctor could hear the fire engines

blaring through the streets at a distance.

“It looks like help is on the way,” the Doctor said.

“You're leaving us with this?” Chad said.

“The Nestene threat is gone,” the Doctor said. “The signal is destroyed and

their invasion fell short. There is nothing left of them.”

“Let's just say they had a meltdown,” Clover said.

“Oooh, that's terrible!” Bex said.

“Our employer is dead and you're cracking jokes,” Bumper said.

“You're absolutely right,” the Doctor said. “That was uncalled for. Something

about the traveling makes you distant. You become the spectators instead of

being the spectacle...”

“Not sure if that's a life I like to lead,” Chad said. “Seeing your TARDIS is

enough!”

“There will be plenty of help on the way,” the Doctor said. “I think it's time we

should be going.”

“In the middle of the fire?” Bumper complained.

“There's a place we need to go before we get side-tracked,” Bex said.

“That's right. English countryside. Plenty of old cottage homes. Cows that go

moo!” Clover added.

“Yes, I get it,” the Doctor snapped. “You don't have to remind me!”

“Sorry about the trouble,” Clover said to the others in the side-lines.

“No trouble at all!” Bumper said. “It's just a lot of explaining to the police to

do!”

“Come on, Christmas Elf!” the Doctor said.

“What?” Bex said.

“Goodbye, and good luck,” the Doctor said. “The junkyard is yours now. I

envy you. The beginnings of a new life!”

“I don't see how exciting that is,” Chad said.

“That's how I started out,” the Doctor said. “In the middle of a junkyard. It

turned out to be a very nice life!”

“You're going to still play video games?” Clover asked.

“I don't know,” Bumper said. “I think it's Go Fish and Crazy Eights for me from

now on!”

 

So the Doctor followed into the TARDIS console room in a whirling, hurrying

pace. His hands hovered over the console while his hands hit several switches and buttons while his mind was flooding with many ideas.

Shutting the door behind him, and taking flight, the Doctor was once again

controlling the maddening movements of the TARDIS. The engine roared into

a splitting roar as the echoes of time filled the room.

“It seems our little adventure in the wrecking yard proves to be a little more

than some of us can handle,” the Doctor said. “I believe Clover will need to

take a little break from all of it.”

“I'm not completely useless,” Clover said.

“Not at all, but between all the fighting, kicking and running, you'll eventually

have a problem carrying a baby inside you,” the Doctor said. “You'll need to

go to a safe house.”

“It's for the best,” Bex said. “It's not the easiest thing taking care of a child.”

“I know, but I hate the idea of missing the thrills,” Clover said.

“Which is why I need to put you in a refuge!” the Doctor defended.

“I'll feel awkward being put out like this!”

“You've been on your feet all day!” Bex said.

Clover said, “I'd rather hang on to the Doctor to make sure he gets to the

right place!”

She planted a kiss on his cheek for good luck while she remained close to his

stalwart figure. His eyes looked like knots of tension while a small smile grew

on his face. Clover held him closer as her arms snaked around his waist

before the TARDIS could make the next jump.

As the Doctor set the coordinates, plotting the current route, his hands picked

at more switches as he pulled the next lever with his free hand. Clover pulled

on the lever too with her hand, sharing the thrust which set things in motion.

“Allen Road,” the Doctor said. “Here we come...”

 

The rolling hills of the English countryside stretched with the vibrant green, that

emerald sea of cut yards, and everything peaceful stretched further into the

seas of earthly beauty.

The eternal calm fell into the small village with a knot of comfortable houses

and cobbled roads on which an occasional biker could be seen riding. There

was a post office. And a pub.

Ramona worked late today, and her hands cleared the counter before

wiping it down. She got a towel to clean up the accident made by one

patrons at the bar. Beckham Briggs. It wasn't one of his best days.

She told the protesting drunkard that he could have one more to cover the

spilled drink, but she would be putting a cap on his drinking. Ramona had the

distinct feeling she was being watched from afar.

“Come on, girlie, just a few more,” Beckham said in his thick English accent.

“You call me girlie one more time and I'm throwing you out the door!”

“It's only four in the afternoon!”

“Exactly. Too early. Too many.”

“How is that Brexit working for you?”

“Sod off. I don't get into politics, and neither should you!”

“Sheee-it. Get off the wrong side of the bed?”

“More like the wrong side of the sofa. I was reading Martin Amis last night.”

“So you're an intellectual now?”

Ramona took the wet towel in her hand, twisted it and snapped it at

Beckham who flinched from her. Maybe it'll snap him into his senses if he got

a good crack in the head.

She reminded herself she'll need to call a taxi to give Beckham a ride. Always

responsible, always looking out. Ramona resumed her cleaning the counter

while scrubbing away that annoying spot along the edges.

Her face was a round, blessed thing while she resembled someone's favorite

aunt in a good-hearted way, though she looked like she could give a guy a

good smack in the head.

Pivoting around behind the counter, she realized someone was indeed

looking at her. It felt like the world stopped as she turned to see the tall man

standing like a tower of charisma.

His formidable presence was matched with the pressed business suit and the

tie which dangled from his neck like a sharp-tongued cloth. Ramona knew

exactly who it was.

The Doctor.

“We're going to need your help,” the Doctor said.

“You know this place is always open to you,” Ramona said.

“My friend is in a spot of bother, and I thought you might like to look after

her.”

“You're looking for a safe space to stay in?” Ramona said.

“Yes,” the Doctor said.

THE END


End file.
